W^"*k,  4~*Jt 

•os 


OF  CALIF.   LIBRARY,   LOS  AH 


CHUMLEY'S   POST 

A  STORY  OF 
THE  PAWNEE  TRAIL 

By 

WILLIAM  O.  STOOD ARD 

AUTHOR  OF  "  LIFE  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN,"  "CROWDED  OUT  o'  CROFIELD," 
"WRECKED,"   "DAB  KINZER"   SERIES,    "THE  TALKING  LEAVES,"  ETC. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY  CHARLES  H.  STEPHENS 


PHILADELPHIA 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 
1896 


Copyright,  1886,  BY  J.  13.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 


Copyright,  1895,  BY  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 


ELECIROTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA,  U.S.A. 


CONTENTS. 


I. — IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY  . 
II. — OUT  OP  PRISON    . 
III. — VERT  DIFFERENT  PEOPLE  . 
IV.— A  DOUBLE  TRAP 

V. — WIPED  OUT  ENTIRELY 
VI. — A  HICKORY  TOMBSTONE 
VII. — A  CALM  AFTER  A  STORM    . 
VIII. — A  PLUNGE  INTO  WILD  LIFE     . 
IX. — THE  PAWNEE  OUTLAWS 

X. — A  VERY  SUDDEN  LOVER    . 
XI. — THE  MUNRO  OUTFIT  . 
XII. — CHUMLEY'S  POST 
XIII.— THE  RED  BEAUTY 
XIV. — ON  THEIR  OWN  LAND 
XV. — A  BUSY  EVENING 
XVI. — WOLVES  IN  THEIR  DEN 
XVII. — "HOLD  UP  YOUR  HANDS"  . 
XVIII.— A  DOG  MURDER  . 
XIX. — CHANGES  OF  BASE 

XX. — STIRRING  AN  OLD  STORY    . 
XXI. — SUPPER  AT  CHUMLEY'S 
XXII.— ONE  SECRET  TOLD 
XXIII. — A  MUCH  SUSPECTED  LEADER     . 
XXIV. — A  MYSTERIOUS  DISAPPEARANCE 
XXV. — AMONG  THE  BUSHES    .' 
XXVI. — A  SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK 


2132851 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAOB 

XXVII. — A  DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD       .  .        .    278 

XXVIII.— A  PAWNEE  PICNIC  ENDED      .        .  .        .290 

XXIX. — MOKE  BLOOD  ON  THE  PAWNEE  TRAIL  .        .    297 

XXX. — BRINGING  AN  THE  WOUNDED  ....    310 

XXXI.— DEADLY  PERIL         ...  .    319 

XXXII.— A  DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEY'S       .  .        .335 

XXXIII.— A  SCENE  IN  A  KITCHEN          .        .  .        .348 

XXXIV.— How  THE  STORY  ENDED  .  ,    363 


RED    BEAUTY. 

A  STOET  OF  THE  PAWNEE  TRAIL. 


CHAPTER   I. 

IN  A  NEW   COUNTRY. 


"THAT,  then,  is  the  northeast  corner  of  my 
land?" 

"  I'll  swear  to  it.  I  never  made  a  more  careful 
survey  in  all  my  life.  You'd  best  set  a  mark 
there." 

"  My  land  lies  due  west  and  south  ?" 

"By  the  compass." 

"  Exactly.  I  own  a  mile  square  on  the  surface, 
but  what  a  fine  point  it  must  taper  down  to  at  the 
centre  of  the  earth!" 

"  Just  as  well  it's  thin  at  that  end.  I  reckon  land 
isn't  worth  much  down  where  that  p'int  is." 

"  They  say  it's  a  bad  climate,  too.  Well,  Mr. 
Surveyor,  I'll  take  your  advice.  I'll  only  drive  a 
peg  now,  but  I'm  going  to  set  up  a  landmark." 

l*  5 


6  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Good  idee.  My  job's  done,  Mister.  Jim  and 
I've  got  a  long  drive  before  us.  Hope  you'll  have 
good  luck.  Set  up  your  landmark ;  you'll  run  all 
your  fences  right,  then." 

A  light  wagon  stood  near  them,  with  a  span  of 
mules  in  front  of  it,  and  the  man  spoken  of  as  "  Jim" 
was  already  putting  into  it  the  tools  of  that  finished 
survey.  The  surveyor  himself  followed  as  soon  as 
he  had  signed  a  receipt  for  the  money  he  and  Jim 
had  earned,  the  mules  were  started  upon  a  sharp 
trot,  and  the  land-owner  was  left  alone. 

He  was  very  much  alone,  for  his  "  section"  of 
prairie  land  and  forest  was  in  western  Nebraska, 
and  there  was  not  a  ploughed  field  or  a  fence  for 
miles  and  miles  in  any  direction. 

He  was  a  well-made,  healthy-looking  fellow,  with 
very  crisp  auburn  hair  and  brown  eyes,  and  some- 
what more  of  beard  and  moustache  than  belonged 
to  one-and-twenty.  He  could  not  have  been  older 
than  that,  but  he  had,  nevertheless,  the  peculiar  air 
which  surely  settles  upon  a  human  being  who  has 
seen  much  of  the  earth  and  its  inhabitants.  The 
intense  expression  of  resolute  courage  that  marked 
his  face  added  to  its  "  old"  look,  and  he  was  evi- 
dently the  right  kind  of  man  for  a  settler  in  a  new 
country.  He  would  be  more  so  as  soon  as  hard 
work  should  improve  away  the  softness  of  the  pair 
of  hands  he  now  thrust  into  the  side-pockets  of 
his  cut-away,  as  he  slowly  turned  upon  his  heels  as 


IN  A   NEW  COUNTRY.  7 

if  studying  the  horizon.  There  was  nothing  east- 
ward but  rolling  prairie,  with  here  and  there  a 
clump  of  trees,  but  westward,  a  half-mile  or  so,  the 
land  rose  into  a  range  of  forest-covered  hills.  It 
was  as  fine  a  prospect  as  a  reasonable  man  could 
ask  for,  but  it  did  not  call  any  enthusiasm  into  the 
sombre  face  of  the  new  settler.  When  he  had 
swung  himself  completely  around  and  was  once 
more  looking  northward,  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  a 
deep-worn  rut  not  many  feet  from  the  peg  he  had 
driven  and  remarked, — 

"  That's  the  Pawnee  Trail,  is  it  ?  I  wonder  what 
makes  it  more  Pawnee  than  any  other  kind  of 
Indian,  when  it's  an  old  buffalo-path,  after  all  ?  It 
goes  pretty  straight,  from  here  to  the  woods,  and  it 
comes  pretty  near  marking  the  line  of  my  land." 

Wheelmarks  on  either  side  of  the  Trail  showed 
that  it  had  been  followed  by  other  travellers  than 
red  men  or  wild  cattle,  but  the  fresh  spring  grass 
was  growing  in  and  over  these.  None  would  ever 
grow  in  the  narrow  path  of  the  bisons,  for  their 
countless  feet  had  beaten  it  hard  as  iron.  It  would 
some  day  put  unyielding  clods  before  the  ploughs 
that  were  to  come ;  but  at  the  present  time  it  could 
be  trusted  as  indicating  the  very  best  line  of  march 
for  any  one  going  through  that  region. 

"  No  Pawnees  for  me,  if  you  please,"  remarked 
the  young  settler ;  "but  I  suppose  they're  like  other 
human  beings,  and  you  can  keep  peace  with  them 


g  RED  BEAUTY. 

if  you  try.  Now  for  my  landmark  and  some  din- 
ner." 

He  strode  rapidly  away  westward  along  the  trail 
for  some  distance,  and  then  turned  to  the  left.  He 
was  now  upon  his  own  land,  and  a  few  minutes  of 
sharp  walking  brought  him  in  sight  of  some  of  his 
other  property. 

There  was  no  telling  what  might  be  contained  in 
the  large,  tilted  wagon  that  had  been  hauled  near 
a  fine  spring  of  water,  but  ploughs  and  other  farm- 
ing implements  were  lying  around  on  the  grass. 
Several  very  good-looking  horses  were  feeding  at 
no  great  distance,  all  carefully  tethered,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  no  good  reason  why  a  pair  of  noble- 
looking  mastifls  and  a  brace  of  tall  stag-hounds 
should  also  have  been  tethered.  They  were  now 
loudly  declaring  their  pleasure  at  the  coming  of 
their  master. 

"  I'll  take  them  with  me  this  time,"  he  remarked, 
"  and  they  may  do  all  the  hunting  they  please  while 
Fm  chopping." 

There  was  likely  to  be  game  enough  in  that  vi- 
cinity, but  when  the  young  settler  took  up  an  axe 
and  walked  on  towards  the  forest  he  made  no  prepa- 
ration for  sport.  He  seemed  to  be  deeply,  gloomily, 
absorbingly  wrapped  up  in  thoughts  which  must 
have  been  of  an  unpleasant  nature.  On  the  very 
edge  of  the  woods  he  stopped  and  looked  at  a 
young  hickory,  less  than  a  foot  in  diameter. 


IN  A   NEW  COUNTRY.  9 

"  That'll  do.  I  couldn't  manage  anything  heavier 
very  well." 

As  he  said  that  he  drove  his  axe  into  the  slender 
trunk  with  more  skill  than  the  color  of  his  hands 
had  seemed  to  promise,  but  at  that  moment  the 
voices  of  all  four  of  his  canine  friends  rang  out 
together.  They  had  been  careering  in  all  direc- 
tions from  the  moment  in  which  they  were  set  at 
liberty,  but  now  they  suddenly  concentrated  their 
forces.  It  was  as  if  they  had  bayed  and  barked  at 
a  mark  and  ceased  as  soon  as  they  had  hit  it.  They 
and  their  master  alike  stood  still  and  looked  at  a 
curious  figure  which  drew  nearer  rapidly. 

A  dingy  yellow  blanket  covered  the  new  arrival, 
with  the  exception  of  his  head,  legs,  and  the  right 
arm.  That  arm  came  out  through  a  hole  in  the 
blanket  and  carried  a  rifle.  The  legs  wore  deer- 
skin leggings,  on  which  bits  of  tattered  fringes 
lingered  here  and  there,  but  the  crown  of  that 
wardrobe  was  a  remarkably  old  and  shining  silk 
hat,  from  under  which  escaped  tangled  locks  of 
long  gray  hair. 

"  About  the  ugliest  mug  I  ever  saw,"  remarked 
the  chopper  to  his  nearest  dog,  as  the  old  Indian 
came  closer. 

In  another  moment  the  rifle  was  transferred  to 
the  blanket>covered  arm,  and  the  dusky  right  hand 
was  extended  with  the  customary  salutation  of 
"  How." 


JO  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  How,"  said  the  white  man,  and  then  he  added, 
"  Do  you  speak  English  ?" 

Perhaps  the  stranger  was  asking  him  if  he  spoke 
Choctaw  or  some  similar  tongue,  for  his  answer 
was  a  string  of  gutturals  such  as  can  be  heard  only 
among  the  red  men. 

"  Not  one  word  except  *  how,'  eh  ?  I'm  afraid 
I  shall  learn  very  little  from  you,  then." 

Again  the  stream  of  ragged  and  jagged  sounds 
poured  forth  liberally,  and  it  was  a  pity  they  could 
not  have  been  understood.  There  is  an  idea  afloat 
that  American  Indians  have  little  or  no  fun  in 
them,  but  it  is  a  great  mistake. 

There  stood  the  gray-haired  aborigine,  with  grim 
solemnity,  applying  to  the  young  settler  all  the  bad 
words  he  knew,  and  he  evidently  knew  a  large 
number.  Not  only  the  youth  himself  but  all  his 
kindred,  of  both  sexes,  were  described  as  animals 
and  reptiles  of  the  most  unpleasant  varieties  and 
accused  of  all  sorts  of  misdemeanors. 

"  Sorry  I  can't  understand  you,"  said  the  white 
man.  "I  did  say,  when  you  came  up,  that  you 
had  the  ugliest  mug  I'd  ever  seen  in  all  my  life, 
but  I  didn't  guess  how  ghastly  a  phiz  you  had  till 
you  opened  your  mouth.  I  haven't  a  doubt  that 
you'd  murder  me  for  fifty  cents." 

At  least  that  money's  worth  of  unmitigated 
blackguardism  replied  to  him  from  the  solemn 
countenance  before  him,  in  the  tongue  he  had 


IN  A  NEW  COUNTRY.  H 

never  until  that  hour  listened  to,  and  then  the  red 
man  sat  down  upon  a  fallen  tree,  as  if  he  meant  to 
watch  the  chopping  of  the  hickory. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  that,"  said  the  chopper.  "  Now 
I  needn't  go  back  and  watch  my  horses  and  things 
till  you're  out  of  sight.  If  ever  a  man  had  a  thief's 
face,  you  have." 

A  cheerful  smile  and  a  string  of  hard  words 
replied  to  him,  and  he  worked  away  with  his  axe, 
not  knowing  that  he  had  been  assured  that  a  squaw 
could  beat  him  all  to  pieces  in  handling  that  tool. 
Down  came  the  hickory  speedily,  however,  and  a 
length  of  about  twenty  feet  of  its  trunk  was 
trimmed  clean  of  branches. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  chopper  to  the  Indian, 
"  that  it  would  take  a  larger  tree  to  do  you  justice. 
No  doubt  whatever  but  what  you  ought  to  be  made 
an  acorn  of." 

Serene  was  the  smile  of  his  hearer,  although 
wonderfully  wide,  and  then  the  same  voice  which 
had  managed  the  gutturals  declared  in  pretty  plain 
English, — 

"  White  boy  heap  fool." 

He  may  have  been,  but  he  was  also  a  man  of 
uncommonly  steady  nerve,  for  without  a  quiver  of 
face  or  voice  he  promptly  responded, — 

"  Just  so,  but  I  don't  often  get  caught  out  quite 
so  easily." 

"  Come  chop  log.     No  gun.     Pawnee  lift  hair 


12  RED   BEAUTY. 

for  him  some  day.  Hang  'calp  in  lodge  and  tell 
squaw  '  fool  'calp.' ' 

"  Are  you  a  Pawnee  ?" 

"Pawnee  heap  wolf.  Good  Indian  me.  Heap 
good." 

"  Do  you  steal  much  ?" 

"  Good  Indian  no  'teal.  Borrow  pony  some- 
time. Take  good  care  of  pony  when  borrow." 

"  Don't  you  horrow  any  of  mine,  then.  Do  you 
see  them  ?" 

The  dogs  had  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation, 
but  they  were  plainly  interested  in  the  old  redskin. 
One  mastiff  was  sitting  near  enough  to  be  patted 
on  the  head,  and  submitted  quietly ;  but  the  canine 
opinion  of  the  stranger  was  not  high,  and  no  tail 
among  them  expressed  gratification  as  he  stepped 
from  one  to  another,  cultivating  their  acquaint- 
ance. 

"  Heap  good  dog,"  said  he,  with  strong  em- 
phasis. 

"  They'll  know  you  the  next  time.  What  name 
do  you  go  by  ?  "What's  your  tribe  ?" 

"Boy  know  enough  now.  Somebody  ask  him 
who  meet  in  woods.  Boy  tell  all  about  him." 

"  Keep  your  secret,  then.  I'm  going  for  a  horse 
to  haul  this  stick." 

"  Got  horse  ?  Good  Indian  come  borrow  him 
some  day,  when  dog  all  gone.  Maybe  Pawnee 
come  first.  No  horse  there  then.  No  boy." 


IN  A   NEW  COUNTRY.  13 

"I  believe  I'll  take  that  warning  about  going 
unarmed,"  said  the  new  settler.  "It  may  not  be 
so  safe  as  the  surveyor  represented.  I  shan't  be 
alone  while  they're  putting  up  the  house  and 
stables.  Things  '11  be  safer  after  that's  done." 

The  Indian  walked  along  at  his  side  in  silence 
until  he  came  to  the  horses.  One  was  selected,  the 
harness  was  put  upon  him  with  a  drag-chain  in- 
tended for  the  log,  and  the  young  man  turned  to 
lead  him  away,  when  his  queer  acquaintance  opened 
his  wide  mouth  again,  with, — 

"White  boy  heap  fool.  Go  leave  good  Indian 
by  horses." 

"  Never  you  mind,  my  friend.  You'll  have  com- 
pany," said  the  new  settler,  quietly;  but  the  red 
man  had  not  seen  or  heard  his  instructions  to  those 


Their  master  went  for  the  hickory,  but  they  did 
not.  They  all  lay  down  within  a  few  paces  of  the 
"  good  Indian,"  and  looked  at  him. 

"  Ugh !  Heap  trap !"  was  his  only  comment,  but 
he  deemed  it  best  to  sit  in  a  very  unoccupied  still- 
ness until  the  owner  of  those  horses  should  come 
back.  Once,  when  he  partly  arose,  a  mastiff  rose 
also,  and  something  like  the  beginning  of  a  growl 
rumbled  in  the  deep  chest  of  one  of  the  hounds. 
It  was  best  to  sit  down  again,  lest  they  should  show 
farther  signs  of  dissatisfaction. 

"  Ugh !     Much  dog.     Suppose  kill  one,  then  get 
2 


14  RED  BEAUTY. 

eat  up  by  three.  No  good.  Boy  say  horse  not 
borrow  this  time." 

It  looked  so,  and  the  young  settler  now  returned 
along  the  Trail  with  his  hickory  stick.  When  he 
came  within  hailing  distance  he  shouted  to  his  dogs 
and  they  bounded  away,  releasing  the  old  Indian 
from  his  "heap  watch."  He  at  once  arose  and 
shouldered  his  rifle,  and  when  the  former  came  for 
a  spade  he  was  ready  to  remark, — 

"  Ugh !  Heap  dig  ?  Rule  good.  No  tell  when 
want  him." 

There  was  something  ominous  but  not  unfriendly 
in  the  positive  manner  of  his  repeated  warning,  but 
when  he  was  asked, — 

"  Are  there  any  Indians  on  the  war-path  nowa- 
days ?"  he  replied, — 

"Boy  all  alone.  Got  horse.  S'pose  Pawnee 
want  horse,  nobody  ever  say  what  boy  did.  Ran 
away,  maybe.  Take  what  friend  say." 

It  was  not  a  very  cheerful  saying,  but  it  was  taken, 
and  the  sombre  young  face  grew  yet  more  cloudy 
and  at  the  same  time  more  resolute.  The  hickory 
pole  was  rapidly  dragged  to  its  destination,  and  the 
spade  was  plied  with  vigor  until  a  hole  was  made 
of  sufficient  depth  to  promise  firm  holding.  The 
butt  end  of  the  stick  was  rolled  over  the  hole  and 
then  the  old  Indian  once  more  said,  "  Ugh !"  This 
time  it  was  in  admiration  of  the  iron  strength  dis- 
played in  the  raising  of  that  landmark.  It  went 


IN  A   NEW  COUNTRY.  15 

up  without  one  pause  in  the  steady  lifting ;  the  earth 
was  packed  in  around  it,  and  the  man  who  had  put 
it  there  stepped  back  to  look  at  it. 

"  Now,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  know  where  the  cor- 
ner of  my  land  is.  If  anybody  else  comes  to  in- 
quire they'll  have  a  starting-point.  They'll  be  able 
to  say, «  That's  Chumley's  Post.'  " 

"  Ugh !"  said  his  companion,  but  the  white  man 
went  on : 

"  Odd  thought !  What  if  a  fellow  could  know 
the  history  of  all  the  lives  that  will  stop  here  and 
look  at  that  post  before  it  rots  down  ?  If  I  am  not 
mistaken,  some  of  them  would  beat  the  novelists 
all  hollow." 

Very  likely.  If,  for  instance,  he  could  have  read 
the  memory  of  the  gray-headed  red  man  who  was 
even  now  repeating,  "  Chumley. — Post" 


16  RED  BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER    IL 

OUT  OF  PRISON. 

AT  the  very  hour  of  the  forenoon  when  Chum- 
ley's  dogs  lay  down  to  watch  the  old  Indian,  a  white 
man  more  than  a  thousand  miles  away  was  under 
even  closer  confinement.  No  connection  could  he 
imagined  between  this  man  and  the  young  pioneer 
or  his  landmark.  He  was  one  of  hundreds  who 
were  at  that  hour  variously  employed  in  a  vast  stone 
structure  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Hudson  Eiver. 
He  was  a  convict  in  Sing  Sing  prison,  but  he  was 
not  now  at  any  work.  He  stood  erect  in  his  nar- 
row cell,  looking  at  the  door. 

"  At  noon  to-day,"  he  said.  "  They  will  come 
soon,  and  my  three  years  of  this  gehenna  are 
ended." 

He  was  a  tall,  fine-looking  fellow,  of  twenty-three 
or  four  years,  and  it  seemed  an  awful  pity  to  see 
him  there.  His  thick,  black,  glossy  hair  had  been 
recently  permitted  to  grow  a  little  beyond  the 
"prison  crop,"  and  his  keen,  brilliant  eyes  were 
full  of  intelligence.  His  forehead  was  broad,  his 
aquiline  nose  well  shaped,  and  it  was  not  till  his 
mouth  could  be  studied  that  an  observer  could  find 


OUT  OF  PEISON.  17 

much  fault  with  his  features.  That  was  not  too 
large,  but  it  was  thin-lipped  and  sharp  at  the  cor- 
ners. Lines  went  out  from  these  which  partly  ex- 
plained the  faint  crow's-feet  on  his  temples.  It  was 
a  face  too  selfish  to  serve  "  self"  well,  and  its  present 
expression  changed  with  flickering  rapidity.  In  all 
the  changes,  however,  there  lingered  one  black 
shadow.  The  one  thought  burning  within  him 
found  expression  in  words  as  well  as  in  fierce  and 
wrathful  darkenings  of  face.  His  voice  was  hoarse 
and  low,  and  there  was  gall  and  wormwood  in 
every  syllable. 

"  Free  ?  That's  it.  Out  into  the  world  again. 
To  be  pointed  at.  CONVICT  !  Served  his  term  in 
Sing  Sing !  No.  The  frontier  is  the  place  for  me. 
I'll  get  even  with  this  world  before  I  die.  Won't  I?" 

The  words  had  almost  a  hissing  sound,  so  fall 
were  they  of  hate  and  bitterness.  "When  a  man 
has  so  lived  and  acted  that  a  just  judge  and  jury 
put  him  into  Sing  Sing,  his  chances  for  improve- 
ment by  years  of  association  with  felons,  iron  bars, 
and  stone  walls  are  not  very  good. 

"  Name  ?"  he  said,  again.  "  I'll  take  any  name 
but  the  one  I  was  born  with.  I'll  pick  me  out  one 
when  I  disappear.  Nobody  that  knows  me  will 
ever  see  me  again." 

Just  then  there  came  a  sound  of  feet  towards  the 
door  at  which  he  was  staring,  and  the  cold  sweat 

stood  upon  his  forehead. 

b  2* 


lg  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  They  have  come !"  he  said. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  stood  in  what  looked  more 
like  a  lawyer's  office  than  a  room  in  any  prison, 
but  he  was  not  free  quite  yet.  He  had  put  off  the 
striped  garb  of  a  convict  for  a  neat,  plain  suit  of 
black,  but  he  had  not  yet  put  off  the  prison  man- 
ner, and  his  bearing  was  of  the  sullen  respect  paid 
by  crime  to  force  while  he  listened  to  the  customary 
formalities  of  liberation.  These  included  excellent 
words  of  counsel  and  exhortation  from  the  prison 
officials,  but  even  the  kindly-faced  chaplain  failed 
to  elicit  from  him  anything  more  than  disciplined 
attention. 

"  Mortimer  Herries,"  said  the  good  man,  earnestly, 
"  I  pray  God  you  may  never  again  find  yourself  in 
such  a  place  as  this." 

"  That  is  a  name,  Mr.  Smith,  by  which  I  shall 
never  again  be  known,  but  I  suppose  you  mean 
me.  You  may  be  sure  of  one  thing :  I  shall  never 
trouble  this  prison  again.  If  I  ever  write  another 
man's  name  for  mine,  on  a  check,  by  any  mistake, 
it  will  be  far  enough  from  this." 

"  Change  your  name.  Make  a  new  name  and 
keep  it  clean.  Be  a  new  man." 

"Made  over  new  in  Sing  Sing?  We  will  see 
about  that.  I  thank  you  all,  gentlemen,  but  I  am 
looking  at  the  clock  and  cannot  talk  very  well." 

Evidently  he  was  a  man  of  education  and  ca- 
pacity, and  even  the  hard-headed  prison  officials 


OUT  OF  PRISON.  19 

remarked  to  one  another  that  it  must  be  a  terrible 
thing  for  him  to  go  out  among  other  men. 

"  You  see,"  said  one,  "  he  doesn't  leave  behind 
him  anything  but  the  striped  jacket.  He's  as  good 
as  branded." 

"  Well,"  replied  another,  "  that  can't  be  helped. 
He  should  have  thought  of  that  when  he  forged 
the  check.  I'm  afraid  there's  all  sorts  of  mischief 
in  him.  Look  at  his  eye." 

There  was  nothing  pleasant  there  to  look  at. 
He  seemed  to  be  making  an  effort  to  suppress 
every  indication  of  feeling,  and  he  succeeded  fairly 
well,  so  far  as  all  other  emotions  were  concerned, 
but  the  sense  of  his  degradation  was  evidently 
upon  him  strongly. 

"He  needs  a  little  more  brass,"  said  the  same 
official  to  the  chaplain,  "and  it  always  comes  to 
'em  after  they've  been  out  a  day  or  two.  He  was 
a  man  of  good  family." 

"Poor  fellow!"  said  the  chaplain;  and  he  was 
poor  enough,  but  when  he  was  informed  that  trans- 
portation would  be  given  him  to  the  city  in  which 
he  had  been  convicted,  and  by  a  railway  train 
leaving  a  few  minutes  after  twelve  o'clock,  he 
responded, — 

"  New  York  ?  Yes.  I'll  go  there,  but  I  shall  not 
stay  there.  I  shall  have  funds  provided.  This  is 
the  last  of  Mortimer  Herries." 

There  was  little  more  to  be  said  or  done.     The 


20  RED  BEAUTY. 

turning  loose  of  some  convict  whose  time  is  out  is 
an  every-day  affair  at  Sing  Sing.  It  is  only  too 
often  accompanied  by  a  shrewd  calculation  as  to 
how  long  it  will  be  before  the  man  released  will  be 
back  again,  but  all  were  inclined  to  take  Herries  at 
his  word. 

"  It's  a  big  country,"  they  said.  "  He  has  brains 
enough  to  go  somewhere  and  do  well  yet." 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  added.  "  He's  likely  to  be 
an  expensive  neighbor.  The  community  he  settles 
in  is  not  to  be  congratulated." 

That  was  the  opinion  of  a  good  judge,  especially 
of  criminal  human  nature,  and  yet  the  gentleman  in 
black  who  entered  the  railway  train  at  Sing  Sing 
was  in  no  respect  the  inferior,  so  far  as  personal 
appearance  went,  of  any  other  passenger  in  the  car 
that  carried  him.  Neither  did  any  man  or  woman 
there  mistake  him  for  a  convict.  He  looked  into 
every  face  that  from  time  to  time  was  turned  upon 
him,  and  not  one  of  all  accused  him  of  having  put 
off  the  prison  stripes  that  day. 

It  was  a  day  of  marked  importance  to  quite  a 
number  of  people.  Towards  the  close  of  its  busi- 
ness hours  a  carefully  dressed,  middle-aged  gentle- 
man sat  by  a  table  in  a  down-town  mercantile 
office,  with  the  inquiring  look  upon  his  face  of  a 
man  who  is  waiting  for  somebody  to  come.  That 
and  every  other  meaning  conveyed  by  the  clear-cut 
and  somewhat  swarthy  features  testified  also  to  the 


OUT  OF  PRISON.  21 

fact  that  he  was  a  polished,  finished,  utterly  self- 
possessed  man  of  the  world.  A  keen  observer 
might  have  gathered  the  idea  that  he  had  prepared 
himself  for  something,  but  if  so,  he  had  done  it 
wonderfully  well.  He  had  taken  care  to  be  alone, 
if  care  had  been  needed,  and  he  did  not  rise  from 
his  chair  when  the  door  opened,  although  he  bowed 
to  the  man  who  came  in.  It  was  Mr.  Mortimer 
Herries,  that  hour  arrived  from  Sing  Sing. 

"  Walk  in,  sir.     Take  a  seat." 

"  Thank  you,  no.    My  business  is  brief  enough." 

"  Certainly.  I  received  your  letter.  You  have 
mine.  I  have  no  questions  to  ask,  Mr.  Herries " 

"  Payne,  if  you  please.  You  are  mistaken  about 
the  name." 

"  Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Payne.  It  is  better  so.  There 
is  the  money  spoken  of  in  my  letter.  I  do  not 
think  Mrs.  Herries  or  the  young  ladies  are  at  home 
to-day." 

"  They  need  not  trouble  themselves.  I  had  no 
intention  of  calling.  Am  I  expected  to  thank  you 
for  the  money  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,  if  you  keep  your  contract " 

"I  shall  keep  it.  Three  years  in  State-prison 
have  taught  me  some  things.  You  will  never  see  me 
again  or  hear  of  me.  And  yet  I  had  a  father  once, 
— a  mother, — sisters, — a  brother, — a  home." 

There  were  years  of  shame  and  agony  hi  the 
quivering  voice  with  which  the  words  were  uttered, 


22  RED  BEAUTY. 

but  the  hard  lips  of  the  man  of  the  world  before 
him  parted  only  to  reply, — 

"  Exactly,  and  you  traded  them  for  a  cell  in  Sing 
Sing.  As  a  man  soweth  so  shall  he  reap.  Do  you 
now  wish  to  say  anything  more,  Mr.  Payne  ?" 

"Not  one  word,  to  you  or  them." 

His  hands  had  closed  upon  a  packet  of  bank- 
notes which  looked  like  a  liberal  provision  for  his 
proposed  journeying.  He  stuffed  it  quickly  into 
an  inner  pocket  of  his  coat,  put  on  his  hat,  turned 
away  without  offering  or  receiving  a  grasp  of  the 
hand  in  farewell,  and  walked  slowly  out  of  the 
office.  The  door  closed,  and  then  the  gray  head 
of  the  man  of  the  world  and  of  business  was  bowed 
for  a  moment  upon  the  table  before  him.  Father 
and  son  had  been  parted  forever  by  something 
many  degrees  more  terrible  than  mere  death,  and 
human  nature  claimed  its  own  with  a  great  pang. 

The  man  who  went  out  seemed  to  have  recovered 
his  equilibrium  suddenly.  Before  he  had  turned 
the  first  corner  he  remarked  to  himself, — 

"  I  can  get  my  baggage  together,  now  I've  got 
the  money,  in  time  to  take  the  evening  train  for 
the  West.  Mr.  Payne,  Mr.  Edward  Payne,  if  you 
please,  is  going  to  Chicago." 

How  much  farther  and  for  what  purpose  in  life 
he  did  not  say,  but  he  at  once  set  about  making 
purchases  of  clothing  and  other  matters,  sufficient 
to  pack  a  travelling-satchel,  purchased  first  He 


OUT  OF  PRISON.  23 

was  yet  busy  with  his  preparations  at  the  hour  of 
one  scene  more  in  which  he  might  have  taken  an 
interest  if  he  had  been  present. 

The  elder  Mr.  Herries,  man  of  the  world  and  of 
business,  had  reached  his  elegant  home  and  had 
gone  at  once  to  his  own  room.  He  was  waited  for. 
A  tall,  aristocratic-looking  lady  came  forward  to 
meet  him.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  and  her  eyes 
were  red  as  if  with  weeping. 

"  Husband,"  she  said,  "  did  you  see  Mortimer  ? 
Did  he  come  ?" 

"N"o,  my  dear.  There  is  no  such  person  any 
more.  A  Mr.  Payne,  from  Sing  Sing,  called  at  the 
office.  I  understand  that  he  leaves  town  at  once, 
but  I  did  not  ask  in  what  direction." 

"  Did  he  say  anything  ?  Did  he  send  any  mes- 
sage ?" 

"  Not  a  word,  except  that  we  should  never  see 
him  again  or  hear  of  him.  He  is  gone !" 

"  Husband,  it  is  awful!  I  know  you  have  seen 
him,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  he  died  three  years 
ago.  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  could  have  seen  him  once 
more !" 

"  It  is  better  as  it  is,  every  way,  Mary.  Let  us 
say  no  more,  just  now." 

She  was  a  woman  of  the  world,  but  for  all  that 
she  was  a  mother,  and  she,  too,  covered  her  face 
and  bowed  her  head,  for  she  had  lost  a  son. 


24  RED  BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER    III. 

VEEY  DIFFEKENT  PEOPLE. 

SING  SING  prison  is  a  long  distance  from  Chum- 
ley's  Post,  and  so  are  many  other  spots  upon  the 
earth's  broad  surface.  One  of  those  other  spots, 
even  more  distant,  was  elegantly  furnished.  It  had 
a  well-set  table  in  the  middle  of  it,  not  for  dinner 
but  for  "luncheon,"  and  near  one  end  of  this  a 
lady  and  a  gentleman  were  standing  at  the  very 
time  when  the  old  Indian  said  "  Ugh !"  at  seeing 
the  pole  lifted  so  easily. 

The  gentleman  was  a  broad-shouldered  youth  ot 
perhaps  fi  ve-and-twenty,  with  very  blond  hair  and 
side-whiskers,  while  the  lady  was  a  very  pretty 
brunette,  evidently  at  least  three  years  younger, 
whom  he  had  twice  already  spoken  to  as  "  dar- 
ling." 

"  Your  mother  will  be  down  in  a  minute,"  she 
said.  "  She  has  a  letter  from  Dick  this  morning." 

"  Glad  of  it.     Where  is  he  now  ?" 

"  North  America,  somewhere.  I  can't  quite 
make  it  out.  He  does  not  speak  of  you  or  me." 

"  He'll  recover  his  senses  one  of  these  days. 
Meantime,  travel  will  be  good  for  him." 


VERY  DIFFERENT  PEOPLE.  25 

"  Chelmsford,  love,  it  was  no  fault  of  mine " 

"We  are  all  agreed  on  that  point.  Even  Ms 
mother  says  he  has  only  himself  to  blame.  Don't 
speak  of  it,  darling." 

"  Seems  to  me  I  was  not  even  giddy.  But  he 
talks  of  land  and  settling  and  remaining." 

"  Good  sign.  Mind  recovering  its  tone.  Been 
awfully  seasick  several  times.  Nothing  like  it.  I 
must  see  the  letter,  though.  Come,  darling.  That's 
mother's  voice.  I'm  wolfishly  hungry." 

He  looked  lovingly  at  his  "  darling"  while  eat- 
ing, and  he  ate  well,  and  the  portly  lady  at  the  head 
of  the  table  talked  freely  about  Dick  and  his  doings, 
but  she  was  the  only  member  of  the  trio  who  went 
so  far  as  to  say, — 

"  How  I.  would  like  to  see  him !  Think  of  it ! 
he  has  been  around  the  world  since " 

"ISTow,  mother,"  interrupted  the  blond  young 
gentleman,  "  you've  made  Laura  blush  again.  Let's 
try  another  subject." 

So  they  did,  successfully,  and  Dick,  whoever  he 
might  be,  was  permitted  to  drop  out. 

It  was  a  good  time  for  lunch,  even  if  one  chose 
to  call  it  dinner.  Elegance  and  refinement  in  one 
place,  rude  simplicity  in  another,  but  high  noon  all 
the  same,  and  the  queer  old  Indian  at  Chumley's 
Post  again  said  "  Ugh !"  with  strong  emphasis, 
when  his  white  acquaintance  asked  him  to  come 
along  and  have  something  to  eat.  He  still  avoided 


26  RED  BEAUTY. 

giving  any  information  about  himself.  His  name 
and  tribe  were  to  be  for  the  present  a  kind  of  se- 
cret, and  he  was  allowed  to  keep  it  without  any 
prying  on  the  part  of  Chumley. 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  good  photograph  of  him,  hat  and 
all,"  he  said,  "and  he  would  smile  just  as  hand- 
somely without  any  name.  No,  I  won't  quote 
Shakespeare.  He  isn't  like  any  rose  I  ever  saw." 

Nevertheless,  while  the  fire  was  kindling  and 
other  preparations  were  making,  there  were  many 
quiet  questionings  on  the  part  of  Chumley  as  to  the 
state  of  mind  prevailing  among  the  red  men  of 
the  Nebraska  border,  and  this  their  elderly  brother 
appeared  to  have  a  very  poor  opinion  of  them, 
taken  as  a  whole.  They  were  but  black  sheep,  with 
an  especially  deep  coloring  for  the  iniquities  of  the 
Pawnees,  and  it  would  be  well  for  any  lonely  white 
man  to  keep  his  dogs  awake,  his  horses  well 
tethered,  and  his  fire-arms  in  good  condition. 

"  'Calp  him  some  day,  anyhow,"  was  cheerfully 
predicted.  "  Keep  eye  out  and  make  Pawnee  wait 
a  little  'fore  lift  hair." 

"  That's  nice.  I  believe  Pll  do  it.  Coffee's  ready. 
Now  I  know  where  my  land  really  is,  Pm  going  to 
put  my  tent  up  after  dinner." 

Rashers  of  bacon,  with  army  bread,  helped  out 
the  coffee,  but  it  was  manifest  that  for  some  un- 
known reason  the  old  Indian  was  getting  uneasy. 
His  snaky  eyes  were  continually  glancing  in  all 


VERY  DIFFERENT  PEOPLE.  27 

directions.  He  ate  rapidly,  and  had  appeased  his 
hunger  before  his  host  was  half  done. 

"  What's  your  hurry  ?"  asked  Chumley,  as  the 
Indian  arose  and  took  up  his  rifle.  "  Stay  and  have 
a  smoke.  Is  there  anybody  after  you  ?" 

"  Ugh !  Maybe.  Boy  good  friend  now.  Look ! 
Lookra*/  Ugh?" 

"  I  see  you.     Well  ?" 

"  Heap  lie.  Never  saw.  Don't  know.  Not  been 
here." 

"  All  right.  I  don't  know  you.  Go  along.  If 
any  of  your  friends  come  to  ask  after  you  I'll  say 
it  was  some  other  Indian." 

"  Good-by.  Keep  eye  out  and  take  rifle  every 
time.  Keep  hair." 

"  Good  luck  to  you." 

The  old  man  turned  on  his  moccasins  and  walked 
rapidly  away  eastward. 

"  Gone  to  hide  himself  on  the  prairie,  has  he  ? 
Well,  I'll  take  his  advice  and  have  a  rifle  within 
reach.  Have  I  got  to  carry  a  revolver,  too  ?  I'm 
afraid  so.  Now  for  the  tent,  and  the  sooner  those 
fellows  come  and  put  up  a  log  house  for  me  the 
better  I'll  be  satisfied." 

Chumley  was  busy  with  his  dishes  and  things 
while  he  spoke,  and  his  next  exclamation  was  a 
loud  one. 

"  The  old  thief!  All  the  cold  boiled  ham  and 
a  good  pound  of  hard-tack.  Is  anything  else  gone  ? 


28  RED  BEAVTY. 

He's  a  skilled  workman.  The  hook-nosed  old  owl ! 
At  all  events  he'll  be  sure  of  a  good  supper.  I'll 
try  for  a  deer  in  the  morning,  or  some  prairie- 
chickens,  I  don't  much  care  which,  but  I  mustn't 
use  up  all  my  pork." 

^The  tent  which  he  now  pulled  out  of  his  wagon 
and  proceeded  to  put  up  was  of  the  regular  army 
pattern,  and  promised  more  comfortable  "  quarters" 
than  the  tilted  wagon.  There  was  a  good  camp-bed 
to  put  into  it,  and  a  stool,  but  no  luxuries  were  yet 
visible.  When  all  was  completed,  the  new  settler 
lighted  a  pipe  and  seated  himself  in  the  door  of  his 
tent,  saying  to  one  of  his  hounds, — 

"Pawnees  are  coming,  old  fellow.  How'd  you 
like  that  ?  I  wonder  how  it  would  seem  to  actually 
point  a  gun  at  a  man,  red  or  white,  and  pull  the 
trigger  ?  I  may  have  it  to  do  before  long,  accord- 
ing to  that  marvellously  ugly  old  thief  that  stole 
my  ham." 

It  was  a  lazy  manner  of  spending  the  remaining 
hours  of  that  very  beautiful  spring  day,  but  there 
seemed  hardly  any  other  way  for  employing  the 
time.  There  was  the  land,  all  around,  the  best  in 
the  world,  but  there  was  no  farm  there  yet.  There 
was  the  spring,  but  with  no  house  by  it,  and  at  last 
Chumley  aroused  himself  sufficiently  to  go  and 
take  a  look  at  that  matter. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we  will  do,"  said  he  to  his 
dogs.  "  We  will  have  our  house  built  all  around 


VERY  DIFFERENT  PEOPLE.  29 

that  spring,  and  then  we  can  have  a  drink  at  any 
hour  of  the  day  or  night,  Pawnees  or  no  Pawnees. 
A  good  log  house  is  a  kind  of  fort,  anyhow,  and 
we'll  make  our  house  safe  to  live  in.  What  do  you 
say  ?" 

Only  one  of  the  hounds  seemed  to  consider  a 
reply  needful,  and  he,  not  knowing  what  other  re- 
mark to  make,  put  up  his  head  and  indulged  him- 
self in  a  short  howl. 

"  That,"  said  Chumley,  "  must  be  on  account  of 
the  ham.  I  shall  have  a  lonely  evening  of  it,  but 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  shall  sleep,  to-night, 
upon  my  own  land.  The  trees  over  the  tent  are 
mine.  So  is  the  spring.  So  is  the  grass.  I  think 
I'll  put  in  a  claim  on  some  deer  and  grouse  in  the 
morning." 

He  had  reached  a  journey's  end  in  safety.  He 
and  his  team  and  wagon  were  a  type  and  sample 
of  thousands  that  were  plodding  the  new  paths  of 
the  West  that  day.  One  more  of  these,  although 
he  knew  it  not,  was  pushing  forward  along  the 
Pawnee  Trail  towards  the  stick  of  hickory  that 
marked  the  corner  of  Chumley's  land. 


30  RED  BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  DOUBLE    TRAP. 

THERE  was  a  very  good  basis  for  Chumley's  idea 
that  the  old  Indian  believed  himself  followed  by 
somebody.  At  the  same  time  it  occurred  to  him 
that  his  queer  guest  was  likely  to  be  a  difficult 
snake  to  catch.  The  man  who  is  himself  a  good 
trailer  is  likely  to  know  how  to  keep  out  of  the 
reach  of  other  men. 

Where  the  supposed  fugitive  slept  that  night 
nobody  could  have  told  but  himself.  Possibly 
he  did  not  do  any  great  length  of  sleeping.  At 
all  events  the  rising  sun  of  the  next  morning 
found  him  prowling  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Pawnee 
Trail. 

He  paid  a  visit  of  curiosity,  as  it  seemed,  to 
Chumley's  Post,  but,  for  some  reason  unexpressed, 
he  approached  it  very  much  as  if  he  were  somewhat 
afraid  of  it.  He  looked  at  the  hickory  stick  itself 
with  a  suppressed  grunt,  and  then  he  looked  at  all 
the  grass  near  it,  from  tuft  to  tuft.  At  its  base 
there  was,  of  course,  much  loose  earth  scattered, 
and  upon  this  were  many  prints  of  Chumley's 
boots. 


A  DOUBLE   TRAP.  31 

What  could  there  be  of  special  interest  in  those 
footmarks,  that  made  them  worth  so  careful  a 
study  ? 

The  stooping  investigation  ended  with  a  short, 
sharp  yell,  and  this  was  followed  by, — 

"  Five  Pawnee.  All  fool.  All  step  out  of  trail 
to  come  leave  track  at  Chumley  Post." 

It  was  a  matter  of  course  that  any  Indian  coming 
along  that  Trail  should  leave  its  beaten  security  to 
examine  so  new  and  seemingly  so  useless  an  "  im- 
provement" as  the  landmark.  It  was  a  thing  to 
be  handled,  inquired  into,  and  discussed.  So  were 
the  wheelmarks  of  the  surveyor's  wagon,  and  the 
boot-tracks  made  by  Chumley  and  by  the  surveyor 
and  his  man  Jim.  It  had  been  decided  that  three 
white  men  and  one  Indian  had  been  at  work,  but 
not  an  idea  could  be  had  beyond  that  from  the  signs 
recorded  on  the  Post  or  the  earth  around  it.  So 
five  other  pairs  of  feet  had  left  proofs  of  their  pres- 
ence and  returned  to  the  hard-baked,  remarkable 
Trail. 

The  old  man  now  studying  those  footprints  did 
not  know  that  their  makers  had  carried  with  them 
one  more  evidence  of  the  near  neighborhood  of 
white  men.  Neither  did  Chumley  know  why  his 
dogs  had  awakened  him  in  the  dusk  before  the 
dawn  that  morning.  They  had  bayed  and  barked 
sonorously,  and  he  had  vainly  asked  of  them  to  ex- 
plain themselves. 


32  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Is  it  a  wolf,  boys  ?"  he  demanded,  three  times. 
"  Or  is  somebody  coming  ?  What  is  the  row  ?" 

He  was  not  to  know,  right  away,  but  each  of 
them  in  turn  had  sent  out  to  listening  ears  among 
the  shadows  the  assurance  that  he  was  a  white 
man's  dog,  and  of  an  uncommonly  large  size. 

The  listeners  heard  and  grunted,  but  had  no 
present  errand  which  carried  them  any  nearer  to  a 
camp  so  well  guarded.  The  errand  they  did  have 
led  them  on  into  the  prairie.  The  one  thing  which 
had  puzzled  them  among  the  "  signs"  near  the  foot 
of  the  "  Post"  had  been  the  traces  of  moccasined 
feet,  every  peculiarity  of  which  was  strange  to  them. 

"  Heap  big  brave,"  they  said,  and  Chumley  had 
noticed  that  his  visitor  of  the  day  before  wore  moc- 
casins which  seemed  much  too  large  for  him.  If 
these  Pawnees  were  aware  of  the  size  of  his  feet 
they  may  have  received  false  tidings  by  way  of  those 
tracks  in  the  dirt,  and  he  may  have  intended  that 
they  should.  At  all  events  he  now  turned  away 
with  a  satisfied  air,  remarking, — 

"  Ugh !  Pawnee  heap  go  blind.  Walk  right  by. 
Wait  see  'em  go  back.  Then  all  safe." 

He  had  not  missed  in  his  estimate  of  the  number 
of  the  squad  of  red  men  whose  possible  pursuit  he 
was  dodging  so  cunningly,  but  he  could  hardly 
have  been  aware  of  what  might  almost  be  termed 
their  financial  condition.  In  all  the  prose  and 
poetry  devoted  to  Indian  affairs,  the  red  warrior 


A   DOUBLE   TRAP.  33 

is  invariably  depicted  fully  armed.  He  is  also 
mounted  upon  at  least  one  pony,  and  is  otherwise 
provided  for  the  exigencies  of  frontier  romance 
and  reality.  Such  is  apt  to  be  the  case,  truly,  but 
savage  life  has  its  vicissitudes  and  its  vices.  Among 
the  most  inveterate  of  the  latter  is  gambling.  It  is 
more  likely  to  set  a  warrior  on  foot,  empty-handed, 
than  is  even  a  collision  with  the  United  States 
cavalry.  In  the  fever  of  excitement  over  games 
of  chance  go  all  possessions, — weapons,  horses, 
blankets,  and  among  some  tribes  even  squaws  and 
children  may  be  staked  and  lost. 

Whether  or  not  the  man  they  were  following  had 
anything  to  do  with  their  evil  fortunes,  here  were 
five  Pawnees  who  had  but  one  rifle  among  them 
and  no  ammunition.  All  had  knives,  and  two 
carried  clubs,  and  the  absence  of  blankets  was  no 
great  -matter  at  that  season  of  the  year.  They 
wore  instead,  so  to  speak,  cloudy  and  dejected 
faces,  fall  of  utter  desperation.  They  were  far 
away  from  their  proper  "reservation,"  and  the 
annual  day  for  presents  from  their  "  great  father  at 
Washington,"  and  for  annuities,  was  long  months 
ahead  of  them.  They  were  in  precisely  the  state 
of  mind  and  pocket — although  they  had  no  pockets 
and  but  narrow  minds — in  which  a  born  horse- 
thief  and  scalp-taker  is  most  dangerous. 

They  were  under  the  necessity  of  making  a  strike 
upon  the  possessions  of  some  other  man  or  men, 

c 


34  RED  BEAUTY. 

and  they  were  now  scouting  along  the  Trail  for 
that  purpose  quite  as  much  as  for  vengeance  of  any 
sort.  They  were  a  full  mile  beyond  the  Post  when 
the  fact  of  their  passage  became  known  to  the  old 
Indian  standing  by  it.  He  seemed  to  derive  an 
intense  degree  of  satisfaction  from  the  results  of 
his  investigation.  It  was  as  if  he  had  set  a  trap 
and  had  caught  something  important.  He  walked 
away  but  a  few  steps  before  he  took  from  under  his 
blanket  an  old  haversack,  and  out  of  that  the  re- 
mains of  a  boiled  ham,  holding  it  by  the  bone  while 
he  cut  off  for  himself  a  slice  large  enough  to  re- 
ward him  for  discovering  the  arrival  and  departure 
of  his  enemies.  He  ate  slowly,  and  he  did  not 
know  that  they  had  been  instrumental  in  stirring 
up  Chumley  to  a  very  early  breakfast.  The  edge 
of  the  knife  had  once  more  reached  the  ham-bone 
when  the  carver  was  startled  into  the  utterance  of 
a  surprised  grunt.  The  sound  of  a  horse's  feet  was 
very  near  him,  and  the  haversack  was  hardly  under 
the  blanket  in  safety  before  a  loud,  cheery  voice 
hailed  him  with, — 

"  Hullo !    Tou  here  yet  ?" 

"  How.  Good  Indian  watch  for  Pawnee.  Pawnee 
come !" 

"What  did  you  do  with  my  ham?" 

"  Ugh !  No  'teal  him.  Heap  eat.  Ham  good. 
No  talk  ham.  Say  Pawnee  come !  Boy  keep  eye 
out!" 


A   DOUBLE   TRAP.  35 

There  was  enough  in  the  manner  of  his  utterance 
to  arouse  some  small  interest,  but  it  deepened  fast 
when  he  beckoned  Chumley  towards  the  Post  and 
tried  to  explain  to  him  the  meaning  of  the  several 
faint  impressions  in  the  dirt. 

"  That's  what  was  the  matter  with  my  dogs  this 
morning.  I  guess  I  won't  let  my  hunting  carry  me 
far  away." 

""Watch  horse, — better.  Boy  fool  about  deer. 
Not  know  how.  Old  man  tell  him.  Get  plenty 
then." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

A  great  deal  of  first-class  pantomime  helped  the 
red  man  to  give  Ml  payment  for  the  ham  and  the 
hard-tack,  in  the  shape  of  a  lecture  on  the  easiest 
method  for  getting  deer-meat  for  dinner.  Not  on 
horseback  in  broad  daylight,  while  the  deer  were 
feeding  and  watching,  but  before  dawn  and  armed 
with  a  double-barrelled  gun.  Not  then  riding 
around  upon  the  great  pasture  aimlessly,  but  fol- 
lowing the  tall  grass  in  the  bed  of  some  dried  or 
half-dried  "  slough."  Here  would  the  deer  lie  over- 
night, and  here  could  they  be  shot  or  pulled  down 
in  the  morning. 

"  Boy  know  heap  now,"  was  the  hopeful  finish. 
"  Old  Indian  come  again.  Boy  boil  ham  for  him 
'nother  time.  Bye !" 

"  Come  along,"  said  Chumley.  "  If  you  won't 
do  anything  worse  than  that  you  may  come  as  often 


36  RED  BEAUTY. 

as  you  choose.  I'll  ride  around  awhile,  though. 
May  strike  something." 

That  he  might  possibly  do  so  was  freely  acknowl- 
edged by  a  nod  of  the  head,  and  he  turned  his 
horse's  nose  northward,  while  his  instructor  in 
prairie  methods  walked  off  in  the  opposite  direction. 

"If  they've  really  gone  by,"  said  Chumley  to 
himself,  "  my  traps  will  be  safe  enough  till  noon, 
anyhow.  But  wasn't  he  cool  enough  about  the 
ham?" 

He  certainly  had  been,  and  he  was  now  consider- 
ing a  probability  which  had  not  occurred  to  the 
•deer-hunter.  The  five  dismounted  Pawnees  were 
the  last  men  in  the  world  to  do  any  more  walking 
than  their  needs  called  for.  Neither  would  they 
run  any  especial  or  undue  personal  risks.  By  that 
Trail  or  some  other  they  would  soon  be  retracing 
their  steps,  whether  successful  or  not.  The  old  In- 
dian therefore  declared  himself  in  need  of  nothing 
but  a  hiding-place  for  the  present.  He  speedily 
found  one,  and  he  also  found  a  greater  need  for  it 
than  he  had  at  all  counted  on.  Less  than  an  eighth 
of  a  mile  southeasterly  from  the  Post  set  up  by  the 
young  settler,  a  score  or  so  of  oaks  and  hickories 
indicated  the  presence  of  water.  It  was  a  widely- 
scattered  clump  of  trees,  and  the  spring  was  small 
and  somewhat  marshy,  but  this  had  encouraged  the 
luxuriant  growth  of  bushes.  Willow  and  hazel 
and  sumach  combined  with  blackberry  and  wild 


A   DOUBLE   TRAP.  37 

rose  to  produce  masses  of  tangled  leaf  and  flower 
and  thorn,  through  which  the  deer  and  buffalo  had 
kept  abundant  pathways  perennially  open.  The 
old  Indian  found  something  more  like  a  rabbit- 
path  at  one  point,  and  it  enabled  him  to  almost 
burrow  his  way  to  within  a  dozen  paces  of  the 
spring.  It  was  a  place  of  much  comfort  for  an 
elderly  man  with  nothing  to  do,  but  a  strong  reason 
had  been  given  him  for  going  there  suddenly.  His 
walk  from  the  Post  had  taken  him  to  the  clump  of 
trees,  and  he  was  almost  half-way  through  them 
when  something  seemed  to  knock  him  down,  so 
suddenly  did  he  drop  into  the  grass. 

Nothing  but  the  sound  of  human  voices  had  hit 
him,  but  they  came  from  a  squad  of  men  who  were 
entering  the  grove  upon  the  opposite  side.  Indian 
ears  could  decide  that  the  sounds  came  from  Indian 
tongues.  It  was  probably  too  late  to  run  away, 
and  so  a  bolder  and  more  profitable  mode  of  escape 
was  taken,  although  it  brought  the  old  Indian 
within  a  few  paces  of  four  of  the  very  Pawnees  he 
seemed  to  be  escaping  from.  It  was  within  hear- 
ing distance,  and  he  speedily  learned  why  there 
were  four  instead  of  five.  He  learned  also  various 
particulars  of  their  views  of  his  own  life  and  char- 
acter, and  the  value  of  his  scalp  to  him  in  case  they 
should  meet  him  alone,  upon  the  prairie  or  else- 
where. 

Still  as  a  log,  keenly  catching  every  sound  and 
4 


38  RED  BEAUTY. 

watching  every  motion,  the  lurking  fugitive  lay 
and  waited  for  the  working  out  of  what  seemed  to 
be  a  plot  of  more  than  ordinary  cunning.  He  had 
already  heard  enough  to  know  that  all  that  matter 
hung  upon  the  coming  of  the  fifth  Pawnee,  who 
was  as  a  sort  of  chief  and  leader  to  this  quartette, 
and  in  whom  they  confided  greatly. 

There  had  not  been  any  trouble  with  the  Indians, 
of  any  tribe  along  that  frontier,  for  so  long  a  time 
that  the  government  agents  were  quite  justified  in 
assuring  emigrants  of  its  safety.  Trains  large  and 
small  came  and  went  unmolested,  and  there  was  no 
fear  whatever  accompanying  the  slow  movements 
of  one  modest  outfit  that  morning.  It  was  lumber- 
ing along  the  Pawnee  Trail,  westward.  One  tilted 
wagon,  drawn  by  four  good  mules,  seemed  to  be 
well  packed  with  household  goods,  and  a  saddled 
horse  was  haltered  to  the  rear  of  the  wagon,  but  the 
really  valuable  part  of  the  whole  affair  walked  side 
by  side  near  the  heads  of  the  foremost  span  of 
mules. 

Three  persons,  every  one  of  them  as  bright  and 
smiling  as  the  spring  morning  on  the  prairie.  A 
tall,  broad-shouldered,  yellow-bearded  man,  a  per- 
fect type  of  the  old  Norsemen,  the  sea-kings,  or  of 
such  sons  of  the  Vikings  as  Charles  the  Twelfth 
of  Sweden  gathered  for  his  famous  "  Yellow  Regi- 
ment." On  his  right  walked  a  woman,  whose  erect, 
vigorous  form,  rosy  face,  and  kindly  blue  eyes  be- 


A   DOUBLE   TRAP.  39 

longed  to  the  same  splendid  type  of  humanity.  On 
his  left  there  tripped  along  a  golden-tressed  fairy 
of  the  North,  who  had  inherited  from  both  father 
and  mother  and  from  her  ancient  race  their  charac- 
teristic beauty.  The  girl  may  have  been  thirteen, 
but  was  yet  completely  a  child,  and  was  now  glan- 
cing around  her  with  all  a  child's  delight  at  the 
new  world  they  were  entering. 

There  was  something  of  Swedish  quaintness  in 
the  dress  of  all  three,  although  it  was  of  good  ma- 
terial and  indicated  no  poverty.  Mother  and  daugh- 
ter wore  their  uncovered  hair  in  skilfully  plaited 
braids  which  were  all  their  own.  Not  one  word  of 
English  mingled  with  their  remarks  upon  what  they 
saw,  but  no  interpreter  was  needed  when  the  fair 
girl  pointed  forward  along  the  path  they  were 
following.  The  words  she  uttered  so  musically 
meant, — 

"  There's  a  man  coming,  father." 

She  should  have  said,  "A  Pawnee,"  for  there 
were  some  drawbacks  to  the  manhood  of  the  being 
who  was  now  approaching. 

Objects  can  be  seen  at  long  distances  upon  the 
prairie,  "from  rise  to  rise."  The  Pawnees  had 
been  watching  on  the  crest  of  one  high  roll  of  the 
plain  when  the  white  tilt  of  the  wagon  loomed 
upon  another,  four  miles  away.  They  watched 
until  they  could  say,  "Ugh!  One  wagon,"  and 
decide  that  it  must  be  investigated.  If  it  could 


40  RED  BEAUTY. 

be  lured  away  from  the  direct  line  of  the  Trail  and 
plundered  in  peace  and  security,  so  much  the  better, 
but  it  brought  the  hope  of  a  probable  new  start  in 
life  to  five  broken-down,  ponyless  Pawnee  gamblers, 
and  it  was  very  welcome. 

"  Indian,  Erica,"  was  all  the  reply  made  by  her 
father. 

When  they  reached  the  spot  where  the  dusky 
wayfarer  stood,  seeming  to  be  waiting  for  them, 
two  strangely  opposite  human  developments  were 
face  to  face  and  holding  out  right  hands  of  greeting. 

The  contrast  was  tremendous  between  the  dark, 
squalid,  fierce-featured  brutality  of  the  Pawnee 
vagabond  and  the  sunny,  open-faced,  large-hearted 
manhood  of  the  brawny  Norseman.  Almost  too 
frankly  unsuspecting  was  the  greeting  given  by  the 
Swedes,  but  the  quick  eyes  of  the  savage  caught 
the  shiver  of  dislike  with  which  Erica  shrank  be- 
hind her  mother. 

Communication  of  ideas  was  somewhat  difficult, 
but  questions  and  answers  were  helped  out  by  signs, 
until  the  Pawnee  made  out  that  this  white  man  was 
near  the  end  of  his  journey  and  meant  to  go  into 
camp  as  soon  as  he  should  come  to  trees  and  water. 
There  were  groves  in  sight,  and  these  could  not  be 
meant.  It  must  be  the  "timber,"  now  no  great 
distance  westward. 

The  mules  were  pushed  a  little  as  one  glimpse 
after  another  was  obtained  of  the  hills  and  the 


A   DOUBLE   TRAP.  41 

forest.  The  Swede  turned  to  his  wife  and  pointed 
with  his  left  hand  along  the  Trail,  and  the  words 
he  uttered  called  a  flush  of  pleasure  to  her  face. 
They  could  have  been  translated, — 

"  Our  farm  lies  in  there  somewhere.  We  can 
find  it  by  that  man's  landmark.  The  surveyor  said 
he  intended  to  put  one  up." 

"  Our  farm,"  and  Erica  repeated  the  words  of 
that  pleasant  information  after  her  mother.  She 
would  say  them  in  English  some  day,  and  they 
were  fall  of  ideas  of  plenty  and  peace. 

"  Our  farm," — if  nothing  should  prevent,  for 
now  their  Pawnee  fellow-traveller  pointed  in  the 
same  direction,  making  motions  as  if  drinking,  and 
beckoning  them  to  follow  him.  He  would  guide 
them  to  water  and  trees  and  a  good  place  to  camp 
in,  and  he  proceeded  to  do  so. 

During  all  that  time  Chumley  had  searched  the 
prairie  in  vain  for  deer.  Even  prairie-chickens 
seemed  to  have  vanished,  and  he  turned  homeward 
with  an  idea  that  he  might  do  better  in  the  woods 
that  afternoon,  and  that,  at  all  events,  he  wished  to 
see  if  his  camp  were  unmolested. 

Under  the  thick  cover  of  the  bushes  by  the  spring 
the  nameless  old  Indian  still  lay  motionless  and 
silent,  listening  to  every  word  and  watching  every 
movement  of  the  wretched  quartette  who  lounged 
in  the  open  space  beyond  him.  It  was  plainly  an 
accustomed  resting-place,  for  trees  had  been  felled 

4* 


42  RED  BEAUTY. 

and  lay  rotting,  and  there  were  traces  of  camp- 
fires. 

Every  now  and  then  one  of  the  Pawnees  would 
go  out  and  return  as  if  awaiting  a  delayed  arrival, 
but  a  heavy  wagon  travels  slowly  through  grass  and 
weeds,  and  it  was  late  in  the  forenoon  before  the 
last  scout  sent  came  back  with  an  exclamation 
which  brought  the  others  to  their  feet.  In  a 
moment  more  all  four  were  hidden  among  the 
trees,  and  when  their  confederate  marched  in,  fol- 
lowed by  the  Swedes  and  their  wagon,  the  camping- 
ground  seemed  unoccupied  and  ready  for  them.  It 
was  a  lovely  spot,  and  could  easily  be  made  more 
so,  and  three  pairs  of  blue  eyes  kindled  with 
pleasure  as  the  suggestion  passed  from  lip  to  lip 
that  it  must  be  upon  "  our  farm." 

The  mules  were  unharnessed  and  the  horse  was 
unsaddled,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  their  owners  how 
strong  a  temptation  those  animals  presented  to  the 
dismounted  thieves  who  were  eying  them  from  the 
surrounding  cover. 

Erica's  mother  had  frequently  addressed  her  hus- 
band as  "  Gustav"  while  they  were  on  the  way. 
She  now  uttered  the  name  with  startled  suddenness, 
for  a  second  Pawnee  came  slouching  forward,  she 
knew  not  whence,  towards  the  spot  where  she  was 
kindling  a  fire. 

They  had  been  successfully  lured  into  the  Paw- 
nee trap,  and  it  was  ready  to  be  sprung  upon  them 


WIPED   OUT  ENTIRELY  43 


CHAPTER  V. 

WIPED    OUT    ENTIRELY. 

THE  intended  victims  of  the  Pawnees  were  utterly 
unsuspicious  of  lurking  danger,  up  to  the  moment 
when  the  "  trap"  was  suddenly  revealed  all  around 
them. 

Erica  had  wandered  a  little  from  the  spring, 
gazing  about  her  in  eager  curiosity,  and  her  father 
was  leaning  into  the  wagon  after  an  axe.  The 
Indian  who  had  been  their  guide  suddenly  drew 
his  knife  and  sprang  towards  Gustav,  uttering,  as 
he  did  so,  a  piercing  war-whoop.  Erica's  mother 
arose  with  a  loud  shriek,  for  the  second  Pawnee 
was  rushing  upon  her,  knife  in  hand,  while  her 
swift  glance  told  her  that  yet  another  evil  shape 
had  suddenly  appeared  and  was  wolfishly  darting 
towards  her  daughter.  Two  more  were  just  behind 
him,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  trap  for  the  destruction 
of  that  family  had  been  perfectly  set  and  success- 
fully sprung.  Five  men  can  easily  murder  one,  if 
they  take  him  by  surprise,  and  a  woman  and  a 
child  can  do  nothing. 

It  was  a  terrible  moment.  So  swift  a  change 
from  peace  and  security  to  utter  horror. 


44  RED  BEAUTY. 

Then  came  another  change  that  was  every  way 
as  swift  and  terrible.  Erica's  mother  was  a  strongly- 
made  woman.  She  seized  her  assailant  by  both 
wrists  and  struggled  with  desperate  strength  for  a 
second  of  time  which  seemed  an  age.  Then  a  gray 
look  shot  across  his  face  and  a  shudder  went  all 
through  him  as  he  wilted  out  of  her  grasp  and 
rolled  convulsively  upon  the  grass.  She  hardly 
heard  or  understood  the  rifle-crack  which  preceded 
that  shudder.  Her  eyes  were  seeking  for  her  hus- 
band and  for  Erica. 

Gustav  had  turned  quickly  at  the  war-whoop, 
and  had  warded  well,  but  the  knife  of  the  Pawnee 
had  gone  through  his  left  arm  near  the  shoulder 
and  the  grapple  was  too  close  for  him  to  use  his 
axe.  He  was  a  doomed  man  unless  help  should 
come,  for  another  dusky  stabber  was  almost  upon 
him,  with  a  fiendish  yell. 

Erica  had  had  a  fleeting  terror-struck  vision  of  a 
griping  left  hand  reached  out  to  seize  the  golden 
braids  of  her  hair  and  of  a  right  hand  lifting 
glittering  steel.  Then  she  saw  a  dog's  white  teeth 
closing  fiercely  upon  the  wrist  behind  the  knife, 
while  a  savage  whoop  changed  suddenly  into  a 
choking  gurgle. 

Her  father  at  that  moment  saw  the  Pawnee 
beyond  his  first  assailant  spring  into  the  air  and 
fall  prostrate.  The  false  guide  with  whom  he  was 
grappling  quivered  and  staggered,  dropped  his 


WIPED   OUT  ENTIRELY.  45 

knife,  and  went  down  with  a  despairing  whoop  ol 
agony. 

The  grove  was  ringing  with  swift  shots,  and  they 
were  all  aware  of  a  man  on  horseback  with  a  re- 
peating rifle  in  his  hands.  Erica's  mother  after- 
wards recalled  a  thought  she  had  that  he  must 
have  fallen  from  heaven.  It  was  not  so,  however, 
either  as  to  him  or  the  two  angry  stag-hounds  who 
were  now  pinning  down  Erica's  assailant.  Chumley 
had  ridden  towards  that  grove  as  his  last  morning 
chance  for  deer,  and  the  first  war-whoop  had  told 
him  what  to  do.  The  dogs  knew  without  any  tell- 
ing when  they  saw  him  spur  so  madly  forward. 

The  Pawnees  had  been  trapped  and  surprised, 
and  every  wolf  of  them  was  down.  Chumley 
knew  why  as  to  three  of  them,  but  he  was  won- 
dering who  had  fired  the  shot  which  had  liberated 
Erica's  mother. 

It  was  a  puzzle  for  only  a  moment.  A  form  he 
knew  came  gliding  out  of  some  willows  near  him, 
with  a  whoop  as  savage  as  that  of  the  Pawnee 
leader.  ISTo  hat  was  now  upon  the  streaming  gray 
hair,  as  the  old  Indian  bounded  towards  the  Paw- 
nee the  dogs  were  holding.  There  was  no  time  to 
check  him  had  anybody  thought  of  doing  so,  and 
in  an  instant  more  the  death-yell  of  that  Pawnee 
chilled  the  very  hearts  of  the  pale-faces,  male  and 
female. 

Ohumley's  face  showed  that  even  he  was  startled, 


46  RED  BEAUTY. 

as  he  looked  upon  the  transformation  undergone 
by  his  recent  guest. 

"He's  not  the  same  being!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Who  would  have  thought  that  it  was  in  him !" 

Not  anybody,  perhaps,  for  all  the  listless,  worn- 
out  old  vagabond  had  disappeared,  and  a  lithe,  vigor- 
ous, panther-like  barbarian,  with  flashing  eyes, — 
his  hideous  face  more  hideous  than  ever  in  its  all 
but  demoniac  expression, — was  on  the  war-path 
against  his  personal  and  hereditary  enemies  with 
all  his  wild  blood  "  up." 

Erica  and  her  mother  screamed  with  horror,  for 
they  saw  two  scalps  taken,  while  Chumley  was 
briefly  examining  the  three  who  had  fallen  by  his 
own  hand.  They  were  all  dead,  but  he  had  no 
time  for  any  emotion  over  that  fact.  A  small,  white 
hand  was  on  his  arm,  and  a  pleading  voice,  half 
choked  with  grief,  addressed  him  in  a  tongue  he 
did  not  understand. 

The  streaming  eyes  of  Erica  and  her  pointing 
finger  supplied  a  translation.  Her  mother  was 
kneeling  beside  Gustav,  trying  to  stanch  the  blood 
that  was  pouring  from  his  arm  and  forehead. 

"My  soul!  I  did  not  know  he  was  hurt.  It 
has  all  gone  by  like  lightning." 

So  it  had,  and  all  the  peril  was  over,  as  Chumley 
at  once  discovered. 

"  It's  a  pity  you  can't  understand  me,"  he  said. 
"  The  club  did  his  head  no  real  damage.  It's  only 


WIPED   OUT  ENTIRELY.  47 

a  flesh  wound  in  the  arm.  No  artery  severed.  He 
will  bleed  freely  before  we  can  stop  it,  but  he's  in 
no  danger.  I  don't  believe  he  is  hurt  anywhere 
else." 

Motions,  signs,  smiles,  dumb  encouragement,  of 
every  sort  he  could  invent,  accompanied  the  words, 
and  at  last  both  Erica  and  her  mother  believed  the 
assurance  Gustav  gave  them  when  he  recovered 
his  consciousness.  It  was  a  grand  thing  and  full 
of  new  hope,  to  see  him  smile  again.  His  wife 
had  his  head  in  her  lap,  but  both  she  and  Erica 
found  themselves  under  a  fresh  embarrassment. 
They  had  no  words  at  their  command  wherewith 
to  express  their  overflowing  gratitude  to  their 
daring  deliverer.  He  was  a  hero,  a  marvel  of 
unselfish  courage  and  prowess.  He  had  not  hesi- 
tated to  charge  in,  single-handed,  against  unknown 
odds,  to  rescue  utter  strangers.  Their  hearts  were 
overflowing,  but  they  had  to  give  it  up.  Erica  held 
out  both  hands  to  him.  There  were  tears  in  her 
eyes,  but  there  was  a  smile  of  thanks  all  over  her 
pale,  frightened  face,  and  he  knew  what  it  meant. 
He  was  in  a  very  much  disturbed  state  of  mind 
himself,  and  yet  another  surprise  was  waiting  for 
him.  Gustav  was  fumbling  in  his  breast-pocket 
with  the  hand  he  could  use.  He  now  took  out 
and  held  up  a  crumpled  envelope,  and  the  young 
settler  took  it.  The  address  was  plainly  written 
"  Mr.  Chimbly,"  but  it  had  reached  the  right  man, 


48  RED  BEAUTY. 

for  it  was  from  his  acquaintance  the  surveyor.  It 
informed  him  that  Ghistav  Eagleson's  "  quarter 
section"  of  prairie  cornered  with  his  own  at  the 
spot  where  he  had  said  he  would  put  up  his  land- 
mark. Their  lines  would  run  together  for  half  a 
mile  southerly.  They  were  to  be  near  neighbors, 
and  the  Swedish  immigrants  had  intended  to  reach 
"  Chumley's  Post"  that  afternoon.  They  were  to 
do  so,  although  under  different  circumstances  from 
any  they  had  imagined. 

They  were  informed,  with  great  heartiness  of 
manner,  that  they  had  already  found  their  neigh- 
bor, and  Erica  believed  him  the  bravest,  hand- 
somest, most  wonderful  of  human  heroes.  She  had 
in  her  mind  a  very  vivid  picture  of  how  Chumley 
looked  on  horseback,  shooting  down  the  Pawnee 
grappling  with  her  father. 

The  letter  had  made  its  appearance  as  soon  as 
the  condition  of  Gustav  Eagleson  permitted.  The 
thoughts  of  all  had  been  concentrated  during  those 
swift  minutes,  but  Chumley  now  turned  and  looked 
around  him  for  the  unknown  old  Indian  whose 
presence  and  conduct  had  been  so  timely  and  yet 
so  complete  a  mystery. 

"  I  owe  him  something  now,"  he  remarked.  "  He 
may  come  to  my  place  and  steal  ham, — anything 
but  horses.  Well !  I  say,  now.  Where  has  the  old 
fellow  gone  ?" 

Gustav  and  his  wife  and  Erica  were  all  asking 


WIPED   OUT  ENTIRELY  49 

the  same  question,  but  there  was  no  one  in  that 
grove  capable  of  giving  them  an  answer. 

Chumley  imagined  one,  and  it  came  to  him  with 
a  keen  and  strong  suggestion  that  he  himself  needed 
to  exercise  especial  prudence.  Pawnees  had  been 
killed  and  the  old  Indian  had  helped  kill  them.  If 
he  had  any  feud  with  these  in  particular  it  was  wiped 
out,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  bring  upon  himself  the 
blood-revenge  of  a  whole  tribe  by  letting  the  facts 
be  known.  He  had  taken  two  scalps  for  which  he 
preferred  not  to  render  any  account.  At  all  events 
he  had  disappeared.  Chumley  searched  the  grove 
in  vain.  He  was  only  a  mere  white  man,  after  all, 
and  very  new  to  the  ways  and  wiles  of  the  red  men. 
The  cunning  old  object  of  his  search  had  but  gone 
back  to  the  place  where  his  "  rabbit  run"  went  into 
the  tangled  mass  of  the  bushes,  and  he  was  now 
lying  upon  the  very  spot  from  which  he  had  fired 
at  the  Pawnee  whom  Mrs.  Eagleson  was  then  hold- 
ing at  arm's  length. 

"I  must  see  to  this  matter,"  said  Chumley  to 
himself.  "  ISTot  one  trace  of  the  fight  must  be  left, 
and  I  must  try  and  make  the  Swedes  understand 
that  the  secret  of  it  must  be  closely  kept.  There  is 
no  end  of  danger  in  it." 

His  next  thought  was  that  the  sooner  he  could 
get  his  new  neighbors  away  from  that  place  the 
better.  They  were  trying  now  to  avoid  as  much 

as  possible  the  sight  of  the  ghastly  relics  of  the 
c      d  6 


50  RED  BEAUTY. 

Pawnee  "  trap."  Nothing  like  this  had  been  pic- 
tured to  their  minds  when  they  left  their  far-off 
northern  home  to  cross  the  sea.  The  shock  had 
heen  severe  accordingly,  and  both  mother  and 
daughter  were  shuddering  with  dread  of  other  and 
yet  unknown  horrors  when  their  new  friend  came 
back  from  his  fruitless  search.  He  proceeded  at 
once  to  harness  the  mules  again,  and  it  was  easy  to 
explain  that  they  were  all  to  go  to  his  own  place. 

The  stunning  effect  of  the  club  blow  upon  Gus- 
tav's  forehead  had  nearly  passed  away.  He  was 
weak  from  loss  of  blood,  but  was  able  to  help  him- 
self a  little  when  Chumley  was  ready  to  put  him 
into  the  wagon.  A  great  gloom  seemed  to  pass 
away  from  all  of  them  as  soon  as  they  were  out  of 
the  grove,  and  the  mules  were  not  halted  until  the 
Pawnee  Trail  was  reached  at  the  Post. 

Gustav  Eagleson,  on  the  mattress  in  the  wagon, 
was  aided  to  lift  his  head  and  look  back  from  that 
point  over  land  that  was  all  his  own.  His  face 
brightened  cheerfully,  but  the  shadow  deepened 
upon  that  of  his  wife.  It  was  all  very  green  and 
beautiful.  !N"o  doubt  but  what  it  was  richly  fertile. 
She  had  dreamed  for  many  a  long  day  of  a  home 
on  such  a  piece  of  earth's  surface,  but  now  it  was 
reached  there  was  blood  upon  it.  Peril  and  violence 
had  been  her  welcome.  Even  if  she  had  heard  or 
read  the  story  of  the  American  frontier,-— one  long, 
ragged  line  of  conflict,  drifting  westward, — it  had 


WIPED   OUT  ENTIRELY.  51 

never  been  made  real  to  her.  Now  she  was  a  part 
of  it,  and  one  terrible  episode  of  its  bloody  annals 
belonged  to  her  and  hers. 

It  was  easy  for  Chumley  to  get  a  smile  from  Erica, 
and  then  he  stirred  up  the  team  for  another  care- 
fully-driven pull.  The  next  halt  was  before  his  own 
tent. 

It  was  while  trying  to  make  the  Eaglesons  under- 
stand that  they  were  to  occupy  the  tent  as  their  own 
for  the  present,  that  Chumley  broke  out  into  a  sud- 
den address  to  himself. 

"  Look  here,  old  fellow,  you've  got  to  turn  school- 
master. They've  all  three  got  to  learn  English." 
And  then  he  turned  to  Erica,  pointing  at  the  can- 
vas shelter  and  saying,  sharply, — 

"Tent!" 

"  Tent,"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  quick  comprehen- 
sion of  his  purposes,  and  she  followed  him  with 
repetitions  of  the  names  he  gave  her  of  a  dozen 
other  articles  in  quick  succession. 

"  School's  begun,"  said  Chumley.  "  I'll  get 
Gustav  into  the  tent,  and  then  we  must  have  some 
dinner.  It'll  be  a  great  blessing  to  me  if  his  wife 
knows  how  to  cook.  It's  all  a  most  extraordinary 
affair." 

There  was  no  great  difficulty  in  helping  Gustav 
out  of  the  wagon  and  into  the  tent,  with  Chumley 
on  one  side  and  Mrs.  Eagleson  on  the  other.  There 
was  little  wonder  that  she  had  been  able  to  hold  the 


52  RED   BEAUTY. 

hands  of  an  undersized  red-skin,  for  her  round,  fair 
arm  had  in  it  the  inherited  strength  of  her  race. 

"  He  will  be  out  in  a  few  days,"  said  Chumley. 
"  He  is  a  handsome  fellow  and  so  is  his  wife,  but 
Erica  is  wonderful.  She  can't  possibly  keep  all 
that  beauty  when  she's  a  grown-up  woman." 


CHAPTER   VL 

• 

A  HICKOKY  TOMBSTONE. 

MB.  EDWARD  PAYNE,  recently  Mr.  Mortimer 
Herries  and  that  day  from  Sing  Sing,  made  his 
purchases  with  rapidity,  for  the  through  express 
train  which  left  New  York  at  seven  o'clock  P.M. 
bore  him  westward.  He  had  taken  passage  in  a 
parlor-car  for  Chicago,  saying  to  himself, — 

"  By  the  time  I  get  there  I  shall  know  what  to 
do  next.  Things  look  differently,  now  the  old  flint 
has  been  so  liberal  with  his  supplies.  On  the 
whole  I'm  glad  he  didn't  ask  me  to  the  house.  I've 
had  humiliation  enough  and  nonsense  enough." 

Of  that  which  depraves  and  hardens  he  had 
clearly  had  enough,  and  every  word  he  uttered 
justified  his  father  in  being  an  "  old  flint,"  if  in- 
deed he  had  been.  Sons  have  duties  to  their  fathers 


A   HICKORY  TOMBSTONE.  53 

as  well  as  fathers  to  their  sons.  Even  the  most 
loving  mother  cannot  change  the  fact  that  the  way 
of  the  transgressor  is  hard.  The  man  who  brings 
disgrace  upon  his  brothers  and  sisters  cannot 
blame  them  if  they  shrink  from  a  sure  promise  of 
more. 

"  Edward  Payne,"  he  said.  "  I  must  get  used  to 
it,  but  I  may  need  more  than  one.  I  know  a  pile 
of  things  I  did  not  know  when  I  went  to  the 
striped-jacket  college  at  Sing  Sing.  I  don't  think 
burglary  or  any  other  kind  of  civilized  work  would 
do  for  me.  No,  not  counterfeiting.  It  takes  too 
much  capital  and  requires  peculiar  training.  I've 
had  one  lesson  on  forgery.  If  I  should  try  to  set 
up  in  any  regular  business  they'd  manage  to  trace 
my  record  somehow,  sooner  or  later.  I'm  for  the 
borders.  I  want  to  go  where  they  shoot  a  man  for 
asking  foolish  questions.  Then  I'd  like  to  shoot 
some  men  I  could  name." 

The  swift  train  bore  him  on  through  the  dark- 
ness. It  was  a  long  train  and  fall,  but  it  was 
empty  compared  to  the  busy  brain  of  its  ex-convict 
passenger  in  the  splendid  palace-car. 

He  had  memories  to  throng  one  another  and 
bring  hot  flushes  to  his  face  and  fierce  words  to 
his  lips,  and  his  black  eyes  glittered  at  times  with 
angry  light.  He  was  trying  to  drive  away  the 
past,  however,  for  he  had  left  one  life  behind  him 
and  was  riding  at  railway  speed  into  another.  He 

6* 


54  RED  BEAUTY. 

was  dreaming  evil  dreams,  wide  awake,  as  to  what 
that  life  was  to  be. 

Other  young  men,  by  the  hundred,  were  at  that 
season  of  the  year  preparing  to  graduate  from  col- 
leges and  universities,  and  were  filling  their  ambi- 
tious young  hearts  and  heads  with  visions  of  use- 
fulness and  honor.  This  young  man  had  just  been 
graduated  from  State-prison,  and  was  choosing 
for  himself  a  life  of  what  he  was  fool  enough  to 
call  "  adventure."  He  would  see  wild  life,  excite- 
ment, lawless  freedom,  an  utterly  selfish  search  for 
he  knew  not  what  of  unfettered  indulgence. 

"  Plans  ?"  he  exclaimed,  at  last.  "  I'll  go  without 
any  plans  and  take  my  chances.  I'll  rough  it.  I'll 
change  my  name  every  other  day,  so  that  no  man 
can  trace  me,  and  I'd  as  lief  be  a  Sioux  war-chief 
as  anything  else." 

Little  he  knew  about  Indians  and  their  war-chiefs, 
but  there  is  a  vast  amount  of  insanity  among  evil- 
doers. The  railway  train  could  be  trusted  to  carry 
him  as  far  as  Chicago,  but  there  was  no  telling  what 
his  heart  and  brain  would  do  with  him  afterwards. 
It  was  while  the  train  was  doing  its  best  the  fol- 
lowing day,  that  the  Pawnees  by  the  spring  received 
the  last  rewards  of  their  own  devotion  to  "  wild 
life." 

Tremendous  as  had  been  to  them  the  excitement 
of  that  forenoon,  its  terrible  events  had  consumed 
less  time  than  the  actors  therein  might  have  im- 


A   HICKORY  TOMBSTONE.  55 

agined.  Chumley's  watch  told  him  that  it  was 
barely  twelve  o'clock  when  he  "beckoned  Mrs. 
Eagleson  out  of  the  tent,  where  she  was  watching 
by  her  wounded  husband,  led  her  to  a  fire  he  had 
kindled,  and  with  many  expressive  signs  placed  his 
coffee-pot,  frying-pan,  dishes,  bacon,  and  hard-tack 
at  her  disposal.  It  was  not  much  of  a  kitchen,  but 
she  was  to  be  queen  of  it.  Erica  came  also,  as  soon 
as  she  saw  her  mother  at  work,  and  with  her  came 
the  two  stag-hounds.  From  the  moment  in  which 
they  had  pulled  down  the  Pawnee,  they  had  seemed 
to  consider  themselves  peculiarly  entitled  to  culti- 
vate her  acquaintance.  They  had  not  been  jealous 
when  she  petted  and  praised  the  tawny  mastiffs, 
but  these  had  each  in  turn  lain  down  again,  while 
the  hounds  continued  their  attendance.  Chumley 
had  taught  her  their  names,  but  now  he  was  com- 
pelled to  interfere  and  send  them  about  their  busi- 
ness that  their  new  mistress  might  play  assistant 
cook. 

"I'll  try  and  get  something  better  than  bacon 
to-morrow,"  he  said,  "but  my  hands  will  be  full 
this  afternoon." 

Mrs.  Eagleson  smiled  as  if  she  understood  him. 
Then  the  shadow  returned,  for  it  was  not  easy  to  be 
cheerful  with  such  a  morning  behind  her.  There 
might  be  other  Indians  coming.  There  were  the 
woods  yonder,  and  she  could  not  help  imagining 
perils  hidden  among  them,  ready  to  burst  forth.  She 


56  RED  BEAUTY. 

was  glad  to  find  that  Gustav  could  eat.  There 
was  encouragement  in  that,  but  she  trembled,  after 
dinner,  when  Chumley  took  his  double-barrelled 
gun,  mounted  a  horse,  and  rode  away,  leading 
another  horse.  A  shovel  that  he  also  carried  gave 
her  the  only  hint  she  had  of  his  errand,  and  that 
suggestion  brought  with  it  shudder  after  shudder. 

"  I  don't  know  how  good  a  sexton  I  am,"  said 
Chumley,  as  he  drew  near  his  landmark,  "  but  I 
won't  make  my  cemetery  near  the  spring.  That 
grove  is  their  best  place  to  build  in,  and  I  mustn't 
spoil  it  for  them.  Right  here  by  the  Post  is  a  better 
place.  I'll  dig  a  hole  six  feet  by  six." 

Soft  as  was  the  black  earth  of  the  prairie,  that 
meant  a  deal  of  vigorous  digging,  and  the  blue  clay 
he  struck  when  four  feet  down  from  the  surface 
made  the  task  yet  harder.  He  had  cut  the  sods 
with  unexplained  care,  and  had  laid  them  all  in  a 
heap  by  themselves. 

Dig,  dig,  dig,  and  time  went  steadily  by,  but  at 
last  he  threw  his  shovel  out  upon  the  grass  and 
sprang  up  after  it,  exclaiming, — 

"  There.  That'll  have  to  do.  I  hardly  thought 
until  this  minute  how  awful  the  rest  of  it  would  be. 
Why,  it's  horrible !" 

He  did  not  pause  to  think  of  it,  but  mounted  his 
horse  and  led  the  other  towards  the  grove.  He  was 
to  have  something  more  to  think  of  after  he  reached 
it  and  sprang  from  his  saddle  to  the  ground. 


A   HICKORY  TOMBSTONE.  57 

There  they  lay,  the  five  slain  Pawnee  vagabonds, 
where  he  had  left  them,  but  there  had  been  a  hand 
there  while  he  was  away. 

All  had  lost  their  scalps  now.  The  rifle  carried 
by  one  of  them  had  before  been  left  beside  his  body, 
but  it  was  gone  now.  So  was  every  knife. 

"  That  old  Indian's  been  here,"  said  Chumley. 
"  I  seem  to  have  made  a  friend  of  him  somehow. 
Glad  of  it.  He  has  done  all  that  belonged  to  him. 
Now  for  my  part." 

Once  more  the  uncommon  strength  of  his  spare, 
sinewy  frame  was  exhibited  in  the  ease  with  which 
he  could  lift  a  lifeless  Pawnee,  place  him  upon  a 
blanketed  horse,  and  take  him  away. 

Trip  after  trip  was  made,  until  the  grove  was 
cleared  of  its  grisly  occupants.  Then  came  another 
long,  weary  pull  of  shovelling,  and  in  spite  of  all 
his  toughness,  Chumley  sat  down  upon  an  ant-hill 
exhausted,  after  fitting  into  place  the  last  square  of 
sod.  He  had  trodden  and  packed  the  earth  as  he 
shovelled  it  in,  and  all  that  was  left  over  was  heaped 
at  the  foot  of  the  Post. 

"  An  army  might  march  by,"  he  said,  "  and  never 
dream  of  what's  under  that  sod.  In  one  week's 
time  the  best  trailer  among  all  their  kith  and  kin 
might  search  the  grove  and  all  this  neighborhood 
and  not  find  a  sign  to  help  him  guess  what's  be- 
come of  them." 

Less  time  than  that  would  really  be  required. 


58  RED  BEAUTY. 

A  smart  shower  of  rain  that  fell  that  very  night 
did  all  that  could  be  asked  for.  When  the  next 
morning  came  there  were  no  stains  upon  the  grass 
and  leaves  under  the  trees  near  the  spring,  and  the 
neatly-fitted  sods  at  the  Post  were  as  fresh  and 
green  as  if  no  human  hand  had  disturbed  them. 
No  suspicion  was  likely  to  search  six  feet  below, 
but  the  very  unlikeliest  of  all  things  will  come  to 


The  sun  was  sinking  low  when  Chumley  finished 
his  dreary  duty.  He  now  arose  from  the  ant-hill 
and  turned  towards  his  horses. 

"  I'm  so  tired  I  hardly  care  to  mount,"  he  said, 
but  for  all  that  he  got  into  the  saddle.  Then  he 
turned  and  looked  down  and  added,  aloud,  "It's 
a  curious  thought,  but  it  comes  to  me  over  and 
over.  If  it  had  not  been  for  a  woman's  heartless 
folly  I  should  not  be  here.  If  I  had  not  been  here 
those  five  would  not  be  there.  I  don't  like  to  think 
of  what  would  have  been  the  fate  of  the  Eaglesons. 
There  have  been  immigrant  families  to  whom  such 
devils  incarnate  came  at  an  hour  when  there  was 
no  help.  It's  altogether  too  deep  for  me,  and  I 
give  it  up." 

He  did  so  with  a  long  breath  and  an  angry  ex- 
clamation, for  he  had  that  day  seen  a  hand  with  a 
knife  in  it  very  near  the  golden  braids  of  Erica 
Eagleson,  and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  she  alone 
were  worth  all  the  savages  he  had  ever  heard  of. 


A   HICKOJRF  TOMBSTONE.  59 

He  felt,  and  he  expressed  it  strongly,  that  there 
was  no  blood  whatever  upon  his  hands,  although 
he  had  sped  three  human  lives  since  sunrise.  He 
rode  slowly  homeward,  and  a  hot  supper  was  wait- 
ing for  him.  He  saw  Mrs.  Eagleson's  glance  at 
the  earth-stains  on  his  hands  and  clothing,  and  the 
nod  of  intelligence  she  exchanged  with  Erica. 
They  had  no  need  to  ask  questions  as  to  his  errand, 
if  they  could  have  done  so  in  the  best  of  English. 

It  was  a  quiet  night  in  that  little  camp.  Even 
the  rain  that  pattered  upon  the  tent  over  the  Eagle- 
sons  and  upon  the  wagon-tilt  which  sheltered 
Chumley  had  nothing  stormy  in  it  after  the  terror 
and  turmoil  of  the  day.  Gustav  Eagleson  himself 
slept  fairly  well,  in  spite  of  his  bruised  head  and 
the  fever  of  his  wounded  arm. 


BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER    VIL 

A  CALM  AFTER  A  STORM. 

IN  the  dark  before  the  dawn,  Chumley  was  in 
the  saddle,  determined  to  try  for  a  deer  before  eat- 
ing his  breakfast. 

"  Jim  and  his  men  will  be  here  to-day,"  he  said, 
"  to  make  a  beginning  on  the  house.  They'll  eat 
up  all  my  provisions  if  I  don't  lay  in  an  extra  sup- 

ply." 

He  got  away  from  the  camp,  mounted  and  armed 
as  his  dusky  adviser  had  suggested,  without  dis- 
turbing his  guests. 

"  Never  killed  a  deer  in  my  life,"  he  said,  as  he 
rode  out  through  the  mists  and  shadows,  "but  I 
believe  I  know  how  to  shoot." 

The  two  hounds  were  with  him,  scouring  the  dewy 
grass  right  and  left  in  silent  industry,  but  it  was 
some  time  before  they  were  rewarded  for  their 
pains.  The  air  was  a  trifle  chilly,  but  Chumley 
felt  the  hunter's  fever  warming  fast  in  his  veins. 
On  he  rode  until  he  came  into  what  appeared  to  be 
a  long  hollow.  The  grass  was  up  to  his  saddle  and 
the  weeds  were  extraordinary. 

"  This  must  be  what  he  called  a  dry  slough,"  he 
said.  "  I'll  try  down  it  towards  the  open  prairie. 


A    CALM  AFTER  A  STORM.  gl 

If  it  were  but  a  little  lighter  now.  Seems  to  me 
I  couldn't  hit  the  side  of  a  house  through  this 
haze." 

A  faint,  gray  light  grew  slowly  in  the  very  edge 
of  the  eastern  horizon  as  he  rode  slowly  on,  follow- 
ing the  indications  of  the  tall  herbage  under  his 
horse's  feet.  The  two  hounds,  unused  to  the  work 
they  were  engaged  in,  were  out  in  the  shorter  grass 
on  the  higher  ground  to  the  left  of  the  slough-bed, 
at  the  moment  when  Chumley's  heart  gave  a  sud- 
den thump  and  his  gun  sprang  to  a  level  as  if  of 
its  own  accord. 

An  outlined  shape,  seen  faintly  through  the  fog, 
bounded  from  the  grass  at  his  right.  Three  bounds, 
while  Chumley  reined  in  his  horse,  and  then  the 
startled  buck  stood  still  for  an  instant  and  turned 
to  look  at  the  disturber  of  his  morning  nap.  Loud 
sounded,  on  the  left,  the  sudden  baying  of  the  stag- 
hounds  catching  the  scent,  and  their  first  cry  was 
followed  by  the  double  report  of  Chumley's  gun, 
sending  a  hail  of  buckshot  into  the  mist  beyond 
him.  That  buck  had  loomed  at  least  ten  feet  high 
in  the  dim  light  and  its  refraction,  but  the  flying 
pellets  found  their  mark. 

The  smitten  deer  dashed  wildly  down  the  slough, 
with  the  music  of  the  hounds  behind  him,  but  that 
race  could  be  but  a  short  one.  In  about  a  minute 
more  the  game  was  down  and  Chumley  was  by  it, 

knife  in  hand. 

6 


62  RED   BEAUTY. 

"  Never  shook  so  in  all  my  life,"  he  exclaimed, 
excitedly.  "  A  rifle  would  have  been  utterly  useless. 
Now  I  must  do  butcher  work.  It's  to  let  the  blood 
out,  I've  read  about  it,  but  I  never  saw  it  done." 

He  did  it,  however,  and  then  he  lifted  the  buck 
upon  his  horse.  He  did  not  try  to  mount,  but  led 
the  animal,  half  frightened  by  his  unaccustomed 
burden,  all  the  way  homeward.  The  sun  was  well 
up  before  he  got  there. 

Before  leaving  his  camp,  Chumley  had  raked  out 
the  embers  of  the  fire  from  the  ashes  and  thrown 
some  wood  upon  them. 

"  She  will  know  what  to  do  when  she  gets  up," 
he  said,  referring  to  Mrs.  Eagleson,  but  his  two 
mastiffs  seemed  to  hardly  know  what  to  do  after 
they  were  left  in  charge. 

It  may  have  been  their  master's  early  absence 
which  made  them  uneasy,  but  they  ranged  around 
instead  of  lying  down.  Just  as  the  first  light  began 
to  crimson  the  eastern  sky  in  token  of  the  coming 
sunrise,  one  of  them  marched  to  the  door  of  the 
tent,  stood  still,  threw  up  his  big  head  and  uttered 
an  anxious  howl,  following  it  with  a  bark. 

There  was  instantly  a  commotion  in  the  tent,  and 
the  dog  wagged  his  tail  in  canine  satisfaction  as 
soon  as  he  heard  human  voices. 

A  minute  or  so  more  and  Erica  stepped  forth, 
quickly  followed  by  her  mother.  Both  of  the  dogs 
danced  around  them  eagerly,  with  loud  barks  of 


A    CALM  AFTER  A   STORM.  63 

recognition  of  their  right  to  be  there,  and  then  the 
fellow  who  had  wakened  them  walked  gravely  to 
the  tent-door  and  looked  in.  There  lay  Gustav 
upon  his  mattress,  wide  awake  and  cheerful,  but 
under  wifely  orders  not  to  move  a  limb. 

The  dog  saw  him,  but  did  not  appear  to  be  en- 
tirely satisfied  with  a  man  who  lay  so  still.  He 
walked  in  and  up  to  the  bed  and  smelled  of  him, 
but  the  secret  of  his  uneasiness  was  out  as  soon  as 
his  nose  had  told  him  the  truth  concerning  Gustav's 
bandages.  A  half  howl,  a  whimper,  and  then  a 
great  brown  paw  was  put  out  for  Gustav's  offered 
right  hand  to  shake.  Nobody  can  guess  how  much 
solid  common  sense  there  is  in  the  mental  opera- 
tions of  a  really  high-toned  dog.  He  left  the  tent 
as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  investigations. 

His  companion  had  attended  Erica  when  she 
went  to  the  spring  for  water,  and  they  both  came 
and  sat  down  near  the  fire  to  watch  the  prepara- 
tions making  for  their  master's  breakfast. 

It  was  as  if  they  had  understood  Mrs.  Eagleson's 
repeated  declaration  to  Erica, — 

"He  will  be  sure  to  come  back  hungry.  We 
owe  him  so  much.  I  do  wish  we  had  something 
nice  for  your  father." 

She  was  to  have  her  wish,  even  to  a  superabun- 
dant supply.  She  and  Erica  came  and  went,  visit- 
ing the  tent,  looking  at  the  horses,  who  were  crop- 
ping the  grass  their  long  lariats  brought  within 


64  RED   BEAUTY. 

their  reach ;  but  there  were  glances  now  and  then 
at  the  woods  and  in  other  directions,  as  if  memories 
of  yesterday  came  with  a  suggestion  of  possible 
peril.  What  if  the  silence  of  that  lovely  and  peace- 
ful morning  should  be  broken  by  such  yells  as  they 
had  heard  by  the  other  spring  ?  That  grove  had 
been  as  shady  and  as  beautiful  as  Chumley's.  "Who 
could  tell  what  might  happen  when  one  Pawnee 
could  suddenly  multiply  into  five,  each  with  a  knife 
in  his  hand  and  a  whoop  on  his  lips  ? 

That  sort  of  thinking  brought  back  to  both  of 
them  swift  mental  pictures  of  the  hero  on  horse- 
back, and  they  had  an  increasingly  strong  desire 
to  see  him  again. 

He  was  coming  now,  at  last,  but  so  was  some- 
body else,  and  the  dogs  began  to  bark  in  two  direc- 
tions at  the  same  moment. 

Mother  and  daughter  exchanged  rapid  remarks 
in  Swedish  and  the  dogs  in  the  mastiff  tongue, 
while  the  arrivals  drew  nearer. 

Chumley  reached  the  camp-fire  first,  and  threw 
down  his  buck  as  a  full  explanation  of  his  morning 
absence.  From  the  opposite  prairie  now  came  in 
an  altogether  unexplained  visitor.  It  was  the  name- 
less old  Indian,  and  this  time  he  was  riding  a  very 
serviceable-looking  pony.  He  too  must  have  been 
hunting  that  morning,  but  the  buck  he  had  killed 
was  smaller  than  Chumley's.  It  lay  before  him  on 
the  pony,  and  it  probably  had  not  seemed  so  big 


A   CALM  AFTER  A  STORM.  65 

and  remarkable  to  him  through  any  mist  as  had 
the  prize  taken  by  the  young  hunter. 

The  old  Indian  rode  straight  in,  unmindful  of 
dogs  or  human  beings,  until  he  was  near  enough 
to  Chumley  to  say, — 

"  How !  Boy  Mil  deer  ?  Ugh !  No.  Boy  find 
him  dead.  Indian  kill  deer.  Squaw  want  meat." 

"  What'll  you  take  for  that  one  ?"  asked  Chum- 
ley. 

"Big  squaw  have  fire.  Coffee.  Cook  meat. 
Indian  eat  a  heap.  Indian  deer  for  little  squaw. 
She  heap  handsome.  Heap  look  like  old  Indian." 

A  truly  wonderful  grin  distorted  his  features  as 
he  asserted  Erica's  resemblance  to  himself,  but  he 
took  the  deer  from  his  pony's  back  and  laid  it  down 
before  her.  It  was  her  venison,  and  she  clearly 
understood  that  this  was  the  same  warrior  who  was 
a  friend  of  Chumley's  and  had  helped  him  kill  the 
Pawnees.  She  drew  a  very  long  breath  as  she 
timidly  held  out  her  hand,  and  nobody  could  ex- 
plain to  her  why  Chumley  was  laughing.  He 
glanced  from  her  face  to  that  of  the  grim  savage, 
and  the  contrast  gave  a  keen  point  to  the  dry 
humor  of  the  latter. 

"  He  can't  be  so  bad  a  fellow,"  thought  Chumley, 
"  if  there's  humanity  enough  in  him  to  admire  that 
child." 

"  Good  old  Indian.  Say  little  squaw  eat  deer  and 
grow.  So  big,  some  day." 

e  6* 


66  RED  BEAUTY. 

He  pointed  at  Mrs.  Eagleson  as  he  spoke,  but  he 
evidently  did  not  expect  a  reply  in  English.  A  very 
good  one  was  shortly  given  him  in  the  shape  of 
coffee,  bacon,  and  broiled  venison.  He  evidently 
felt  somewhat  at  home,  for  he  not  only  inquired  of 
Chumley  as  to  the  hurts  of  Gustav,  but  went  to 
the  tent  to  look  at  him  and  say  "  How;"  but  the 
real  nature  of  his  visit  did  not  leak  out  until  just  as 
he  was  departing,  a  little  while  after  breakfast. 

"  Boy  listen,"  he  said.  "  Blue-coat  come  by  and 
by.  Ask  boy  question.  Say,  '  See  Pawnee  go  by  ?' 
Now,  what  boy  say  ?" 

"  Tell  them  no.  I  suppose  you  mean  United 
States  Cavalry.  "No  Pawnees  around  here.  Go  to 
the  grove  and  look  for  'em." 

"  Ugh !  Go  pretty  soon.  Now  s'pose  blue-coat 
say,  '  Boy  see  old  Potawatamy  ?'  what  boy  say  ?" 

"  You  mean  if  they  ask  if  I've  seen  you  around 
here  ?  "Well,  all  I  can  answer  is  that  there  was  a 
very  handsome  old  chap  here.  Don't  know  any- 
thing about  him." 

"Ugh!  Good.  Boy  heap  fool.  Can't  tell  lie 
worth  a  cent.  Old  Indian  great  chief.  Heap  great 
brave.  Blue-coat  call  him  good  Indian,  but  want 
him,  maybe.  Old  chief  no  want  blue-coat.  Go 
lie  down  in  bushes.  They  come.  Go  away." 

"I  think  I  understand,"  said  Chumley,  as  his 
queer  acquaintance  rode  away.  "  I  can  safely  say 
I  don't  know  his  name  or  tribe.  He  may  keep  out 


A    CALM  AFTER  A  STORM.  QJ 

of  harm's  way  for  all  I  shall  do.     That  shot  of  his 
was  fired  in  the  nick  of  time." 

Erica  regretted  that  she  could  not  properly  thank 
the  old  savage  for  his  deer,  but  both  she  and  her 
mother  felt  relieved  when  they  saw  him  go. 

He  had  a  special  errand  in  going,  for  he  had 
asked  no  explanation  of  Chumley's  assurance  that 
no  Pawnees  were  now  in  the  grove  by  the  other 
spring.  He  went  right  along  to  find  out  for  him- 
self. 

He  went  directly  to  the  grove,  across  prairie, 
following  no  path,  and  rode  into  it  with  his  eyes 
flashing  rapidly,  right  and  left.  A  more  peaceral- 
looking  spot  it  would  have  been  hard  to  find,  now 
that  the  rain  had  done  its  washing. 

"  Ugh !     Gone.     Where  gone  ?    Boy  no  fool." 

Neither  was  he,  and  the  feet  of  Chumley's  pack- 
horse  had  left  marks  which  he  was  able  to  read 
without  dismounting.  No  other  eyes,  white  man's 
or  Indian's,  would  have  understood  the  meaning 
of  the  several  traces  of  coming  and  going,  but  he 
had  the  clue.  He  followed  the  hoofmarks  to  the 
Post.  There  was  quite  a  mound  of  fresh  earth  at 
the  foot  of  it,  and  the  veteran  trailer  soon  detected 
the  evidences  of  disturbance  in  the  neighboring 
sod. 

"  Ugh !"  said  he.  "  Blue-coat  no  find  'em.  No 
more  Pawnee  come.  Grass  grow.  All  cover 
up." 


68  RED  BEAUTY. 

He  turned  his  pony's  head  southerly,  towards  the 
timber,  and  urged  him  into  a  sharp  canter.  It  was 
as  if  he  had  especial  reasons  for  getting  away  from 
that  vicinity. 

Perhaps  he  had.  About  an  hour  later,  Chumley 
was  busily  engaged  in  getting  a  prairie-plough  out 
of  his  own  wagon,  and  Erica  was  watching  him  as 
well  as  her  playfellows  the  dogs  would  let  her. 
Suddenly  they  all  bounded  away  from  her  with  a 
noisy  announcement  that  somebody  was  coming. 

"  I  declare !"  exclaimed  Chumley.  "  The  old 
fellow  was  right.  They're  in  uniform." 

So  they  were,  and  not  one  of  them  was  aware 
that  their  wet  bivouac  of  the  previous  night  had 
been  inspected  or  their  coming  announced  before- 
hand. 

"  Officer  and  six  men.  Well,  I'll  be  glad  to 
know  all  they  can  tell  me." 

Only  a  few  minutes  more  and  he  was  exchanging 
questions  and  answers  with  a  bronzed,  soldierly 
horseman,  who  introduced  himself  as  "  Lieutenant 
Ingalls,  United  States  Cavalry,"  and  had  inquiries 
to  make  about  a  squad  of  peculiarly  vicious  Paw- 
nees. They  were  part,  he  said,  of  a  larger  lot,  the 
•vorst  of  their  tribe,  who  refused  to  be  kept  upon 
the  Reservation  except  by  force,  and  were  always 
in  mischief  of  some  sort.  Their  main  body  had 
been  found  and  was  receiving  due  attention.  These 
five,  after  a  hard  spree  in  which  they  had  gambled 


A    CALM  AFTER  A   STORM.  69 

away  their  possessions,  had  gone  in  this  direction, 
it  was  understood.  They  were  about  the  only 
Indians  known  to  the  officer  from  whom  such 
settlers  as  Chumley  and  his  "family"  need  have 
any  fear. 

Chumley's  eyes  danced  a  little  at  the  mention  of 
his  family,  for  the  glances  of  the  lieutenant  had 
gone  towards  the  face  of  Erica  a  dozen  times  while 
he  was  talking. 

"  No  danger  of  their  attacking  us,  I  hope,"  he 
said,  and  the  lieutenant  replied, — 

"  Not  if  you  were  on  your  guard,  but  they'd  cut 
your  throats  quickly  enough  if  they  could  do  it  and 
get  away.  They've  no  idea  I'm  after  them." 

"  Will  they  resist  capture  ?" 

"  Not  for  one  moment.  I  almost  wish  they  might 
all  get  killed  before  I  find  them.  Great  public  ser- 
vice. Their  own  tribe  would  hardly  be  sorry." 

"  Would  it  not  retaliate  on  the  men  killing 
them?" 

"  Their  own  band  would.  Sure  as  you  live.  You 
said  you  had  seen  nothing  of  them  ?" 

"I  did  not  say  so.  May  I  have  your  word  of 
honor,  if  I  tell  you  a  thing  which  in  my  opinion 
should  be  kept  a  secret  from  their  band  ?" 

"  Duty  and  the  public  service  excepted." 

"  Let  me  ask  you  to  dismount,  then,  and  come  to 
my  tent." 

"  Evidently  a  gentleman,"  said  the  officer  to  him- 


70  RED  BEAUTY. 

self,  as  he  sprang  down,  and  his  men  remained  in 
their  saddles  while  he  followed  Chumley.  Mrs. 
Eagleson  was  in  the  tent-door,  and  as  she  stepped 
aside  the  lieutenant  lifted  his  cap  to  her. 

"There,"  said  Chumley,  pointing  to  Gustav's 
bandages.  "  That  was  the  work  of  your  Pawnees. 
He  will  soon  be  well,  but  it  is  no  fault  of  theirs. 
He  is  a  Swede.  Her  husband  and  Erica's  father. 
No  use  to  question  him.  He  does  not  speak  Eng- 
lish." 

"  "Will  you  tell  me  the  whole  affair  ?" 

"  Let  me  saddle  a  horse  and  ride  with  you.  It's 
less  than  a  mile  to  the  spot." 

Lieutenant  Ingalls  was  all  politeness  to  Mrs. 
Eagleson  and  Erica,  and  he  listened  to  Chumley 
with  studious  courtesy,  but  he  was  intensely  in 
earnest  about  probing  the  matter  to  the  bottom. 
Chumley  saddled  his  horse,  and  they  rode  together 
to  the  scene  of  the  skirmish.  The  account  of  it 
was  attended  to  with  little  interruption,  but  that 
very  fact  made  it  impossible  to  conceal  the  part 
taken  by  the  unknown  Indian,  and  at  last  the  lieu- 
tenant quietly  remarked, — 

"  How  many  did  Eagleson  kill  ?" 

"  Not  any." 

"  The  dogs  pulled  down  one.  You  shot  three. 
Who  killed  the  other  two  ?" 

"  An  Indian  among  the  bushes.  I  know  nothing 
whatever  about  him." 


A    CALM  AFTER  A   STORM.  71 

"  I  do,  then.  There's  a  death  feud  between  old 
Big  Mouth  and  that  band  of  Pawnees.  Whether 
he  was  after  them  or  they  after  him  I  can't  guess." 

"  Who  is  he  ?" 

"  Good  enough  Indian.  They  say  he  was  a  Pota- 
watamy  chief  once.  Can't  say  just  whose  redskin 
he  is  just  now.  I  don't  want  him,  unless  for  this 
affair.  But  what  became  of  the  bodies  ?" 

"  Had  a  funeral  at  once,"  said  Chumley.  "  If 
you'll  come  with  me  I'll  show  you." 

The  lieutenant  was  plainly  suppressing  some- 
thing, but  rode  silently  along  until  they  halted  at 
the  "  Post"  and  Chumley  pointed  at  the  grass : 

"  Your  Pawnees  are  down  there,  all  five  of  them. 
On  my  word  and  honor." 

The  lieutenant  held  out  his  hand,  and  his  admira- 
tion broke  forth : 

"  Mr.  Chumley,  I  hardly  know  what  to  say.  A 
most  remarkable  affair.  Splendidly  well  done.  Of 
course  I  must  report  all  particulars  to  my  command- 
ing officer,  but  you  will  never  be  hurt  by  it.  The 
Pawnees  will  never  hear  of  their  worthless  bucks, 
and  that's  about  all  there  is  of  it." 

"  Glad  of  that." 

"But  isn't  the  little  Swede  a  beauty?  I'd  kill 
forty  score  of  redskins  before  they  should  lay  a 
hand  on  her  head.  The  miscreants !" 

"  You  are  sure  we  are  now  in  no  further  danger  ?" 

"Perfectly  safe,  my  dear  sir.     The  frontier  is 


72  RED   BEAUTY. 

thoroughly  quiet.  Build  your  house.  Put  in  your 
crops.  You've  made  a  fine  beginning  for  a  ceme- 
tery. I  wish  the  rest  of  their  band  were  all  in  it 
Not  the  whole  tribe,  however." 

"  Any  of  them  worth  saving  ?" 

"  Certainly.  Some  fine  fellows  among  them. 
That  is,  except  when  they  are  out  on  a  war-path. 
Then  they'd  be  as  remorseless  as — well,  as  your 
friend  Big  Mouth.  By  the  way,  don't  call  him  by 
that  name  if  you  wish  to  keep  on  good  terms  with 
him.  The  Pawnees  gave  it  to  him.  Find  another." 

"  I  may  never  see  him  again." 

"  Yes,  you  will.  Those  hills  are  said  to  be  his 
range.  I  reckon  your  horses  are  safe,  so  far  as  he 
is  concerned." 

"  He  threatened  to  borrow  them." 

"  Then  he'll  never  touch  them." 

An  invitation  to  remain  and  rest  till  after  dinner 
was  politely  refused,  but  Chumley's  statement  was 
carefully  reduced  to  writing  before  Lieutenant  In- 
galls  led  his  squad  of  blue-coats  away  westward 
along  the  Pawnee  Trail. 

Chumley  strove  hard  to  convey  to  his  friends  the 
assurances  of  peace  and  safety  given  him,  but  Mrs. 
Eagleson's  kindly  face  did  not  at  once  recover  its 
sunshine.  Erica's  did  better,  with  the  aid  of  her 
fourfooted  playfellows,  but  the  day  passed  without 
the  appearance  of  "  Jim"  and  his  log-house  carpen- 
ters. All  that  could  be  done  by  the  young  settler 


A   PLUNGE  INTO    WILD  LIFE.  73 

was  to  get  out  his  farming  tools  and  say  to  each  of 
them  in  turn  how  entirely  unskilled  he  was  in  the 
work  to  be  performed  with  it 


CHAPTER    VIIL 

A   PLUNGE   INTO   WILD   LIFE. 

A  MAN  thinks  faster,  sometimes,  when  he  is  in 
rapid  motion.  The  brain  of  Mr.  Mortimer  Herries 
— Edward  Payne,  late  of  Sing  Sing  prison — worked 
at  high  pressure  all  the  way  to  Chicago.  He 
dreamed  wilder  dreams  as  he  rode,  and  cast  behind 
him  more  and  more  utterly  the  ties  of  all  sorts 
which  he  had  been  born  into.  One  thing  he  found 
it  impossible  to  throw  off  at  once.  That  was  a 
quick,  stinging  suspicion  of  every  pair  of  eyes 
which  rested  upon  him,  lest  their  owner  should  be 
looking  through  his  present  respectable  appearance 
and  discovering  the  ex-convict  underneath.  The 
striped  garb  was  about  the  only  thing  of  his  criminal 
life  that  he  had  put  away  from  him  when  his  "  time" 
was  up. 

Again  and  again  he  satisfied  himself  that  the  lady 
or  gentleman  taking  note  of  him  had  no  hidden 
thought  or  impertinent  curiosity.  He  was  entirely 
safe,  he  said  to  himself.  He  bore  no  external  brand. 

D  7 


74  RED  BEAUTY. 

There  was  no  fear  that  any  pointing  finger  would 
ever  single  him  out. 

He  did  not  know  that  several  had  gone  far  the 
other  way,  and  had  remarked  upon  him  as  a  very 
fine-looking  young  man  with  an  uncommonly  in- 
telligent face.  A  little  pale  they  said,  but  seemingly 
in  good  health.  Nervous  temperament.  An  un- 
pleasant expression  about  his  eyes  and  mouth,  but 
decidedly  a  handsome  fellow  in  spite  of  it.  Not 
until  the  train  was  within  two  hours'  ride  of  Chicago 
did  a  short,  broad-shouldered,  quiet  sort  of  man, 
with  whom  he  had  conversed  somewhat  in  the 
smoking-room  of  the  palace-car,  come  and  sit  down 
beside  him. 

"  Soon  there  now,"  said  Payne. 

"  "We  shall  make  the  trip  on  time.  I  shan't  ask 
you  many  questions,  Mr.  Payne.  I'm  one  of  Pink- 
erton's  men.  Have  you  been  long  out,  or  are  you 
working  up  something  heavy  ?" 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?" 

"  Didn't  I  say  what  I  was  ?  I've  been  trying  to 
place  you  all  day.  Never  saw  you  before,  you 
know,  but  you  might  as  well  have  worn  a  label. 
You'd  better  talk  right  out." 

A  fierce  imprecation,  only  half  suppressed,  hissed 
between  the  grinding  teeth  of  the  ex-convict,  but 
his  common  sense  came  to  his  assistance.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  'show  his  papers  and  con- 
ceal no  part  of  his  record. 


A   PLUNGE  INTO    WILD  LIFE.  75 

"  Out  yesterday.  Travelling  west  under  an  alias. 
No  cause  for  detention  known.  I  shall  not  molest 
you.  Nobody  but  one  of  our  fellows  would  know 
but  what  you  were  all  correct.  I  suppose  you'll 
know  what  to  do,  now  you're  spotted." 

"  I'm  going  to  the  ends  of  the  earth !" 

"  Good  place  to  go  to.  We  have  to  follow  fellows 
there,  sometimes.  You're  not  going  there  for  any 
good,  I  can  see  that." 

"  You  needn't  preach  to  me." 

"  Not  in  my  line.  Take  your  own  gait.  You'll 
probably  meet  some  of  Pinkerton's  men  again  soon 
enough.  Yours  isn't  a  case  of  repentance.  Good- 
by.  I'm  watching  some  special  business  in  another 
car.  Got  a  warrant  to  serve,  you  know,  before  we 
pull  up  in  Chicago." 

The  detective  actually  shook  hands  with  him,  as 
if  to  help  him  keep  his  secret  from  the  other  pas- 
sengers, but  he  had  driven  a  very  painful  iron  into 
the  soul  of  the  ex-convict. 

"  My  mind's  made  up  now,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  if  it  wasn't  before.  I  must  go  on  beyond  the 
range  of  that  sort  of  bloodhound.  I  must  be 
more  quiet  and  self-confident  in  my  manner,  I  sup- 
pose. Still,  he  did  say  that  only  an  expert  like 
himself  would  have  suspected  me." 

It  was  a  bitter  pill  to  take  at  any  hands,  never- 
theless, and  it  produced  an  immediate  effect. 

Mr.  Mortimer  Herries,  alias  Edward  Payne,  al- 


76  RED  BEAUTY. 

ready  "  spotted"  by  Pinkerton's  men,  arrived  in 
Chicago  that  night  and  slept  at  a  first-class  hotel, 
but  the  city  contained  no  such  person  at  noon  of 
the  following  day.  Neither  had  any  person  of  that 
name  left  the  city  in  any  direction,  but  a  fine-look- 
ing young  fellow  registered  as  "  Bradley  Morford, 
of  New  York,"  was  in  a  palace-car  bound  for  St. 
Louis.  He  did  not  know  that  just  as  the  train 
started  an  elderly  lady  on  the  platform  turned  away, 
remarking  to  herself, — 

"  "Well,  he's  really  off.  I  saw  him  get  on  board. 
The  St.  Louis  office  '11  have  to  keep  track  of  him 
after  he  gets  there.  He's  bent  upon  something  or 
other.  I  can  see  it  in  his  eye." 

Something  in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Bradley  Morford 
was  making  a  determined  effort  to  conceal  itself 
from  other  eyes  and  was  fairly  successful.  It  was 
the  soul  of  a  man  incessantly  saying  to  himself, — 

"  I  am  from  Sing  Sing,  and  I  must  appear  to  all 
men  tremendously  self-respecting,  high-toned,  and 
so  forth." 

Such  an  effort  could  but  produce  an  intensely 
strained  state  of  mind.  A  man  who  has  been  dis- 
covered and  has  reason  to  believe  that  he  is  watched, 
without  knowing  by  whom,  is  in  a  terribly  unpleas- 
ant kind  of  ambush. 

"  Herries — Payne — Morford,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  No  resemblance  between  the  names.  No  use  to 
try  and  disguise  myself  any  other  way.  Is  that  car- 


A   PLUNGE  INTO    WILD  LIFE.  77 

waiter  one  of  Pinkerton's  men  ?  The  conductor 
has  eyes  like  needles.  I'll  talk  with  anybody  that 
comes.  It  won't  do  to  appear  offish." 

The  sore  state  of  his  whole  human  nature  actually 
aided  him  in  taking  on  an  air  of  almost  haughty 
reserve  which  became  him  well,  and  none  of  his 
fellow-passengers  broke  through  it.  He  knew  very 
little  of  Pinkerton's  men  if  he  imagined  that  they 
would  continually  inform  him  of  any  "  shadowing" 
they  might  do  in  his  case.  They  would  take  just 
enough  of  pains,  and  no  more,  to  satisfy  their  minds 
as  to  whether  or  not  they  had  any  business  with 
him.  There  was  not  one  of  them  who  had  any 
time  to  spare,  as  they  expressed  it,  "  in  following 
an  empty  wagon." 

Mr.  Bradley  Morford's  arrival  in  St.  Louis  was 
duly  noted,  but  he  was  unaware  of  being  specially 
attended  to  his  hotel.  Neither  did  he  know  of  a 
report  carefully  filed  away  in  a  pigeon-hole,  the  fol- 
lowing evening,  after  its  contents  had  been  copied 
in  a  book.  Part  of  the  report  read : 

"  Seemed  not  to  be  in  communication  with  any- 
body. Not  one  of  the  Blake  gang  came  near  him. 
Purchased  a  repeating  rifle,  navy  revolver, — des- 
cription of  both  herewith,  minute, — with  ammu- 
nition. Nickel-mounted  bowie-knife,  buck-horn 
handle,  nine-inch  blade,  no  marks.  He  took  the 
night  train  for  Kansas  City." 

The  law-protecting  forces  of  civilized  society 
7* 


78  RED  BEAUTY. 

were  finishing  their  work  with  this  man.  He  had 
long  since  discovered  that  they  were  too  strong  for 
him.  Now  he  knew  more  bitterly  than  ever  that 
they  were  too  watchful,  and  he  was  fleeing  from 
them.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  burning  up  with  a 
mad  fever  to  get  away  from  all  restraint,  as  if  it 
were  his  personal  enemy.  In  such  a  heated  mental 
and  moral  atmosphere  evil  purposes  ripen  fast. 

"  War  it  is,  then,"  said  the  ex-convict  to  himself, 
in  his  insane  folly.  "  If  every  man's  hand  is  against 
me,  I'll  play  Ishmael  with  a  vengeance.  At  all 
events  all  this  nervousness  will  disappear  when  I 
find  myself  on  horseback  riding  across  prairie.  I 
may  as  well  make  up  my  mind  right  here  and  now. 
I  won't  stop  at  any  place  short  of  the  border,  and 
I'll  strike  at  the  first  chance  that  turns  up." 

What  he  meant  by  that  could  partly  be  inter- 
preted by  the  evil  light  that  came  into  his  face 
while  saying  it.  A  more  complete  rendering  was 
shortly  to  be  given  in  a  practical  form. 

Evil  purposes  ripened  into  evil  deeds  with  won- 
derful rapidity. 

It  is  also  true  that  a  vigorous  and  healthy  human 
body  soon  rallies  from  the  effects  of  a  mere  flesh 
wound.  It  was  only  a  few  days  before  Gustav 
Eagleson  was  able  to  sit  in  the  door  of  Chumley's 
tent  and  watch  "  Jim"  and  three  helpers  at  work 
with  tremendous  energy  upon  Chumley's  log  house. 

The  way  in  which  that  house  was  going  up  was 


A   PLUNGE  INTO    WILD  LIFE.  79 

a  marvel  only  to  be  accounted  for  by  a  promise  of 
extra  pay  in  case  it  should  be  finished  within  a 
given  time. 

It  was  a  lazy  way  for  a  new  settler  to  spend  his 
time,  and  Gustav  was  inwardly  chafing  over  his 
enforced  idleness.  He  knew  that  Erica  and  her 
mother  were  away  towards  the  woods  for  some 
reason,  and  he  knew  that  Chumley  had  mounted 
his  horse  and  ridden  out  on  the  prairie  without  any 
apparent  purpose.  It  was  a  positive  pleasure  now 
to  see  him  ride  suddenly  back  again.  How  should 
Gustav  or  any  of  the  rest  guess  that  he  had  come 
for  the  purpose  of  completing  a  very  rash  and  hasty 
bargain  ? 

Chumley  had  not  sold  anything,  but  he  was  a 
very  young  man,  and  he  had  purchased  a  horse  of 
an  utter  stranger.  Such  a  fine  animal,  and  so  very 
cheap. 

It  had  all  come  to  pass  in  the  easiest  and  most 
natural  manner.  Riding  along  the  Pawnee  Trail, 
eastward,  with  a  dim  idea  lingering  in  his  mind 
that  he  had  much  better  be  learning  how  to  plough 
prairie,  Chumley  had  met  an  uncommonly  agree- 
able wayfarer. 

A  very  gentlemanly  person,  well  dressed,  well 
mounted,  led  a  second  horse,  whose  points  at  once 
captured  the  fancy  of  the  young  settler.  During 
a  ride  of  half  a  mile,  side  by  side,  and  a  halt  for  a 
talk  about  the  country  and  the  prospects  for  its 


80  RED  BEAUTY. 

improvement,  the  stranger's  conduct  and  speech 
had  been  faultless.  He  had  tendered  a  very  recent 
newspaper  very  courteously ;  had  refused  an  invita- 
tion to  take  dinner  at  Chumley's  place;  not  one 
thing  about  him  had  been  worthy  of  special  note, 
unless  it  had  been  a  slight  stutter  and  hesitation  of 
speech  when  he  gave  his  name  as  "  Mr.  Mortimer 
Herries,  of  St.  Louis."  He  talked  horse  freely. 
The  one  he  rode  was  his  preference.  He  meant 
the  other  for  a  remount.  Bought  him  two  days 
before  of  a  man  named  Con  over.  Had  not  used 
him  yet,  and  could  not  say  anything  about  him. 
There  was  Conover's  bill  of  sale  and  warranty,  in 
due  form.  Price  from  him,  two  hundred  dollars. 

"  I'll  give  you  fifty  for  your  bargain,"  had  been 
Chumley's  sudden  exclamation.  "  Pay  you  the 
gold." 

"  Greenbacks  are  as  good  as  gold,"  said  the 
stranger ;  "  but  I  want  two  seventy-five." 

"Done,"  said  Chumley;  and  that  was  why  he 
now  came  back  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  some  money 
from  the  box  in  his  wagon. 

He  took  counsel  with  no  man,  but  was  off  in 
less  than  two  minutes  towards  the  Trail. 

Very  off-hand  and  matter  of  course  was  the  de- 
meanor of  Mr.  Herries  about  so  simple  and  every- 
day an  affair  as  the  sale  of  one  horse.  He  shook 
hands  with  the  purchaser  and  cantered  away,  like 
a  man  who  was  in  no  great  hurry  but  who  had  a 


A   PLUNGE  INTO    WILD  LIFE.  gl 

journey  before  him.  He  was  well  out  of  Chum- 
ley's  hearing  before  he  exclaimed,  aloud, — 

"  One  name  is  as  good  as  another,  but  that  was 
a  slip  of  the  tongue.  If  anybody  comes  to  claim 
that  horse  from  him,  he'll  have  a  good  time  hunt- 
ing up  somebody  by  the  name  of  Conover.  On 
the  whole,  my  first  stroke  was  a  pretty  good  one, 
but  I'd  better  not  camp  any  too  early." 

He  was  very  quickly  hidden  by  the  forest  in 
which  the  Trail  disappeared,  but  by  that  time 
Chumley  was  back  at  his  own  tent,  showing  his 
purchase  to  Gustav. 

There  is  fascination  enough  in  any  newly-pur- 
chased horse  to  draw  a  gang  of  men  from  their 
work,  pay  or  no  pay.  It  was  not  long  before  Jim 
and  his  three  helpers  were  helping  Gustav  to  ad- 
mire that  animal  instead  of  fitting  doors  and  win- 
dows. All  admitted  that  such  a  bay  as  that,  six 
years  old,  sixteen  hands  high,  without  a  blemish, 
was  cheap  at  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars. 
Jim,  however,  had  been  a  surveyor's  assistant,  and 
he  surveyed  the  prize  very  thoroughly  and  deliber- 
ately. Then  he  took  out  a  card  of  tobacco  from 
his  pocket,  cut  off  a  deeper  slice  than  was  his  cus- 
tom, and  remarked, — 

"  Mr.  Chumley,  that's  a  good  hoss.  Did  he  say 
his  name  was  Harris  ?" 

"  Or  something  like  it." 

"  And  he  bought  him  of  a  man  named  Conover, 


82  RED  BEAUTY. 

and  paid  him  two  hundred,  and  you  got  him  foi 
two  seventy-five.  "Well,  I  don't  know.  Things 
will  happen." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Jim  ?"  said  Chumley,  with 
an  uneasy  feeling,  that  was  fostered  by  the  dubious 
expression  of  Jim's  face. 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  I  don't  pretend  to  say. 
Only  I  reckon  Conover  lost  more  money  on  that 
hoss  than  Harris  made  on  him." 

"  Do  you  know  the  horse  ?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  'Pears  to  me  I  do.  Old 
Jedge  Bunce,  of  Cross  Prairie,  he  raised  him.  He 
vallied  him  at  five  hundred.  -Wouldn't  have  took 
a  cent  less,  for  the  jedge  is  forehanded.  He  is. 
Conover  lost  money  on  that  hoss." 

"  There's  his  bill  of  sale." 

"  Writes  an  extrornary  good  hand.  Reckon  it's 
all  right.  I  don't  know  any  Mr.  Conover." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  there's  anything  wrong 
about  the  horse  ?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  I  don't  pretend  to  know. 
But  if  old  Jedge  Bunce  was  to  come  and  see  the 
hoss  he  could  tell  ye  a  heap  more  than  I  could." 

That  was  pleasant,  but  Mr.  Herries  was  gone,  no 
man  could  guess  whither.  There  was  no  good 
ground  yet  for  following  him.  None  for  detaining 
him  one  moment  from  his  travels  for  business  or 
pleasure.  The  bargain  was  a  good  one,  and  Mr. 
Conover  may  have  been  in  need  of  money.  That 


A   PLUNGE  INTO    WILD   LIFE.  §3 

is,  as  Chumley  said  to  himself,  "  unless  Mr.  Con- 
over  should  turn  out  a  skilful  invention  of  Mr. 
Herries  or  some  other  man." 

Jim  said  as  much  to  his  helpers,  but  it  was  nearly 
sundown  before  any  of  them  knew  more  about  that 
bay  horse.  Then  they  all  knew  a  great  deal,  for 
Judge  Bunce,  of  Cross  Prairie,  and  a  deputy 
sheriff  spent  that  night  at  Chumley's  place.  In  the 
morning  they  ate  breakfast  with  him,  and  when  they 
rode  away  they  led  with  them  the  uncommonly 
good  bargain. 

The  young  settler  had  been  taken  in  by  a  very 
elegant  and  accomplished  horse-thief,  and  all  the 
loss  was  his  own.  The  owner  had  followed  fast 
and  far  upon  discovering  the  theft,  inquiring  all 
the  way  for  a  land-buyer  by  the  name  of  Morford. 
Chumley  remarked  with  strong  emphasis, — 

"  Know  him  again  ?  I'd  know  his  face  among  a 
thousand.  Handsome  face,  too, — but  there  was 
something  in  his  eye.  I'd  know  him !" 

"Well,"  said  Jim.  "I  don't  know.  I  don't 
pretend  to  know.  But  I  reckon  the  next  stranger 
that  comes  along  here  with  a  hoss  to  sell  '11  have 
to  prove  property  before  he  gets  his  money.  That 
chap's  cleared  out  scot-free." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Chumley;  "but  I  may  meet 
him,  some  day." 


84  RED  BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  PAWNEE  OUTLAWS. 

A  HUNDRED  years,  one  after  another,  make  little 
change  on  a  prairie  or  in  a  forest.  Grass  grows 
and  withers.  Leaves  come  and  go.  Unless  the 
settler's  plough  or  the  woodman's  axe  comes  to  dis- 
turb the  old  order  of  things,  there  are  no  new 
features. 

Even  four  years,  however,  will  work  a  vast  change 
in  human  beings  and  in  any  landscape  whereon 
they  are  busy.  Four  full  years  went  by  after  the 
events  narrated  in  the  beginning  of  this  story,  and 
again  there  had  come  and  blossomed  the  brightest 
and  fairest  kind  of  spring. 

"With  it  had  come  much  business  and  work  to  all 
men,  and  apparently  a  duty  of  some  perplexity  to 
a  pair  of  United  States  cavalry  officers.  They  were 
discussing  it  together  by  a  table  in  a  plainly-fur- 
nished room  at  the  headquarters  of  an  army  post, 
with  a  pile  of  papers  before  them.  One  wore  gold 
oak-leaves  upon  his  shoulder-straps  and  the  other  a 
pair  of  golden  bars,  but  their  uniforms  gave  token 
of  much  active  service. 

"It's  a  rough  record,  captain,"  said  the  major. 
"  Indian  agents,  sheriffs,  citizens.  And  yet,  do  you 


fHE  PAWNEE  OUTLAWS.  85 

know,  if  we  should  catch  Jerry  McCord  and  turn 
him  over  to  a  judge  and  jury,  I  don't  believe  they 
could  prove  one  of  these  things  against  him." 

"  My  notion  is  that  the  settlers  '11  hardly  trouble 
judge  and  jury  with  him.  We've  nothing  to  do 
with  that." 

"  Not  after  a  sheriff  relieves  us  of  the  responsi- 
bility, but  those  Pawnees  must  be  brought  back 
to  the  Reservation.  They  won't  show  fight.  The 
only  trouble  is  to  find  them.  Better  strike  for  the 
old  Pawnee  Trail,  following  the  ranges  till  you 
reach  it.  You'll  hear  of  them  somewhere." 

"  Isn't  that  too  far  south  ?" 

"  Their  last  strike  was  up  here  away,  north- 
erly," said  the  major,  with  his  finger  on  the  map. 
"I've  sent  the  lieutenant  with  ten  men  in  that 
direction.  Jerry's  cunning  would  take  him  well 
away,  after  such  an  infamous  piece  of  business  as 
that." 

"  Such  a  man  is  worse  than  any  redskin.  They 
say  he  was  born  a  gentleman.  Good  education, 
fine  manners,  good-looking  sort  of  fellow.  Young, 
too." 

"  He's  been  the  pest  of  this  region  for  three  years, 
anyhow.  He  furnishes  brains  for  that  gang.  Not 
a  white  man  among  'em  but  himself.  He'll  hang 
just  as  well  as  if  he  were  not  so  good-looking." 

"  We've  no  warrant  for  him." 

"  Every  sheriff's  deputy  has.     Bring  in  the  Paw- 

8 


86  RED  BEAUTY. 

nees  at  all  hazards.  Call  him  a  Pawnee  and  bring 
him  in." 

"  If  anything  happens  to  him  ?" 

"Accidents  will  happen,  captain.  He's  a  des- 
perado. A  disgrace  to  the  name  of  white  man. 
Turn  him  over  to  the  civil  authorities,  dead  or 
alive!" 

"  Your  blood's  up  about  him,"  said  the  captain, 
as  he  arose  and  took  up  the  papers  belonging  to 
him. 

"  Captain,"  said  the  major,  "  it's  enough  to  set  a 
colder  man  than  I  am  a-boiling.  He  may  not  have 
touched  man  or  woman  with  his  own  hands,  but 
you  know  what  his  Pawnees  did.  Make  a  thorough 
piece  of  work  if  you  can/' 

"  I  shall  do  my  duty,"  said  the  captain,  touching 
his  hat.  He  and  his  commanding  officer  were  evi- 
dently close  friends,  but  he  did  not  deem  it  neces- 
sary to  say  to  him  what  he  said  to  himself  after 
mounting  his  horse : 

"Accidents  will  happen.  I'm  afraid  there's  a 
good  many  accidents  getting  ready  for  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord." 

A  sergeant,  a  corporal,  and  nine  well-mounted 
men  in  blue  rode  behind  the  captain.  There  was 
talk  among  them  as  they  went  along.  They  knew 
what  errand  they  were  on.  It  was  a  sort  of  scrub- 
work,  they  said,  but  there  might  be  some  excite- 
ment in  it  Better  than  loafing  around  a  camp. 


THE   PAWNEE   OUTLAWS.  87 

At  all  events  there  was  but  one  opinion  among  them 
as  to  the  necessity  for  finally  rooting  out  Jerry 
McCord's  band  of  Pawnee  horse-thieves.  More 
than  one  story  passed  from  lip  to  lip  of  deeds  more 
evil  than  the  stealing  of  horses. 

The  major  had  correctly  informed  the  captain 
that  he  had  before  him  several  days  of  pretty  in- 
dustrious riding  and  searching.  He  had  made  a 
fairly  good  calculation  in  other  respects,  and  it  was 
a  pity  he  could  not  have  sent  his  efficient  subordi- 
nate directly  to  a  secluded  little  valley  among  the 
hills  of  Western  Nebraska. 

A  very  pretty  place  it  was.  A  sort  of  natural 
"  open,"  surrounded  by  a  rugged  country  which 
protected  it  from  intrusion,  yet  not  too  far  removed 
from  outlying  settlements.  Its  appearance  that 
morning  was  exceedingly  picturesque,  and  it  was  a 
pity  that  no  artist  could  seize  the  opportunity  for  a 
sketch  of  it. 

There  were  five  rude  huts  along  the  bank  of  a 
rivulet  which  ran  through  the  valley.  In  and 
around  the  huts  were  a  score  or  more  of  human 
beings,  mostly  males.  No  small  children  were 
visible.  The  garments  worn  by  all  were  such  as  a 
lot  of  vagabond  squaws  and  Indians  could  beg  or 
steal  on  that  frontier.  Perhaps  the  proudest  squaw 
among  those  lodges  sat  before  her  door  in  a  dam- 
aged red  silk  dress  which  had  been  made  for  a 
much  smaller  woman,  but  her  next  neighbor  had  a 


88  RED  BEAUTY. 

red  shawl  and  a  straw  bonnet,  and  wore  a  green 
veil  around  her  neck.  A  tall  male  redskin  lying 
on  the  grass  near  her  also  wore  a  bonnet.  There 
were  bright  ribbons  and  a  stuffed  parroquet  upon 
that  bonnet,  and  some  settler's  wife  had  probably 
missed  it  from  her  wardrobe  on  getting  home  some 
mournful  day. 

It  was  a  time  of  peace  and  utter  idleness.  There 
were  many  horses,  of  various  grades  and  values, 
feeding  upon  the  abundant  grass  of  the  valley, 
and  no  need  was  of  fence  or  hedge,  for  it  was  all 
"  commons."  Except  for  dirt  and  squalor  and  the 
evil  faces  of  men  and  women,  the  remaining  most 
prominent  feature  of  that  encampment  was  the 
number  and  apparent  currish  worthlessness  of  its 
dogs. 

And  this  was  the  home  and  hiding-place  of 
Jerry  McCord's  band  of  vagabond  Pawnees,  but 
there  was  no  white  man  in  the  valley  that  morn- 
ing. 

Perhaps  the  nearest  member  of  the  ruling  race 
was  a  man  who  was  riding  along  the  Pawnee  Trail, 
eastward,  towards  the  point  where  it  came  out  of 
the  wooded  ranges  upon  level  ground.  He  had 
already  reached  a  place  where  the  forest  was  suffi- 
ciently open  for  him  to  leave  the  Trail  and  push  in 
among  the  trees,  and  he  seemed  to  draw  a  breath 
of  relief  when  he  did  so,  remarking, — 

"  Haven't  met  a  man.    Nobody  hereaway  would 


THE  PAWNEE  OUTLAWS.  89 

know  me,  but  I  don't  care  to  be  seen  till  all  my 
scouting's  finished." 

He  was  a  very  handsome  fellow,  of  less  than 
thirty  years  of  age.  His  dark,  sun-bronzed  features 
were  fall  of  intelligence,  and  his  black  eyes  were 
uncommonly  brilliant,  while  his  muscular  frame 
gave  promise  of  activity  and  endurance.  He  wore 
his  beard  and  moustache  untrimmed,  but  there  were 
no  signs  of  any  neglect  of  personal  appearance. 
The  neat  blue  suit,  the  broad-brimmed  Panama  hat, 
the  black  silk  handkerchief  around  his  throat,  the 
well-made  boots  and  spurs,  the  good  horse  and 
saddle  under  him,  all  combined  to  give  him  almost 
too  jaunty  an  exterior  for  an  ordinary  settler  of  the 
Nebraska  frontier. 

Just  before  he  wheeled  in  among  the  trees  he 
halted  and  leaned  forward  as  if  looking  along  the 
Trail.  It  was  a  sudden  movement,  and  he  may  have 
heard  something.  At  all  events  his  face  underwent 
a  strange  and  instantaneous  transformation.  The 
black  eyes  glittered  with  a  fierce  and  cruel  light. 
Corrugations  unnoticeable  before  sprang  out  upon 
his  broad  forehead,  seeming  to  flatten  it  and  giving 
the  idea  of  a  panther  ready  to  spring. 

The  beauty  was  all  gone,  for  this  was  the  face  of 
a  devil.  Even  the  luxuriant  growth  around  the 
mouth  failed  to  conceal  the  evil  will  expressed 
by  it 

A  moment  more,  the  temporary  disturbance  dis- 

8* 


90  RED  BEAUTY. 

appearing,  a  graceful,  smiling  horseman  rode  on 
among  the  trees. 

He  did  not  ride  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
before  he  again  halted,  and  now  he  sprang  lightly 
to  the  ground.  As  he  did  so,  his  blue  frock  coat 
swung  back,  and  prying  eyes  could  have  seen 
enough  of  the  glitter  of  silver  and  steel  to  know 
that  the  man  carried  weapons.  He  fastened  his 
horse  to  a  sapling  and  went  forward  on  foot,  saying 
to  himself,  as  he  did  so, — 

"It's  a  good  while  since  I've  paid  a  visit  to 
Chumley's  place.  It  cost  him  something  the  last 
time.  So  it  did  the  first.  That  was  a  neat  opera- 
tion, but  old  Bunce  got  back  his  bay.  I  don't  be- 
lieve Chumley  has  the  ghost  of  an  idea  that  his 
sorrel  mare  was  scooped  by  Jerry  McCord,  or  that 
Jerry  ever  sold  him  a  horse.  I  hope  he's  got  some 
good  stock  on  hand  this  tune." 

If  he  were  now  proposing  to  obtain  information 
upon  that  point,  he  went  at  it  with  extreme  cau- 
tion. No  Indian  scout  could  have  slipped  forward 
more  circumspectly  than  he  did  until  the  increasing 
light  among  the  woods  beyond  him  testified  that 
the  edge  of  the  forest  was  nearly  reached. 

More  slowly  now,  his  black  eyes  flashing  around 
him  in  all  directions,  he  passed  from  trunk  to  trunk 
of  the  tall,  primeval  trees,  until  he  could  look  out 
from  the  last  safe  cover  upon  the  open  country  be- 
yond. 


THE  PAWNEE  OUTLAWS.  91 

There  was  no  reason  visible  why  this  man  should 
be  afraid  to  meet  other  men  face  to  face,  and  there 
was  no  peril  to  any  living  thing  in  what  he  now 
saw  before  him. 

A  substantial  log  form-house  stood  but  a  short 
distance  from  the  outermost,  straggling  clumps  of 
hickories.  There  were  fenced  lots  on  either  side 
of  it,  and  fields  of  maize  and  grain  beyond.  If 
Jerry  McCord  had  come  to  inquire  about  quadru- 
peds, there  they  were,  quietly  feeding  in  the  fenced 
lots.  Only  one  cow  was  to  be  seen,  but  there  were 
several  horses.  One  mare  had  a  colt  at  her  side. 
It  was  a  very  pretty  rural  picture,  but  its  present 
observer  only  remarked  of  it, — 

"Just  so.  We'll  have  every  hoof  of  'em  yet. 
I'll  set  a  watch  to-morrow,  and  the  first  time  Chum- 
ley's  away  from  home  we'll  make  a  haul." 

There  was  more  greed  than  malice  in  the  smile 
with  which  he  discussed  with  himself  his  intended 
raid,  but  just  at  that  moment  a  sound  came  to  his 
ears  which  seemed,  in  a  manner,  to  knock  him 
down.  At  all  events  it  caused  him  to  throw  him- 
self flat  on  the  earth  behind  the  trunk  of  a  fallen 
tree,  through  some  raspberry-vines  which  caught 
at  his  beard  as  he  plunged  among  them. 

He  was  hidden  in  an  instant,  and  the  sound 
grew  nearer,  louder  and  clearer.  It  had  been 
sweet  enough  from  the  first,  for  it  was  a  foil- 
throated  lilt  of  song,  and  the  voice  of  the  singei 


92  RED  BEAUTY. 

had  in  it  a  power  and  richness  that  is  not  heard 
every  day,  in  or  out  of  the  woods. 

Jerry  listened  for  a  fiill  minute,  in  utter  astonish- 
ment, before  he  exclaimed  in  a  loud  whisper, — 

"  That's  it.  Why  didn't  I  think  ?  It's  one  of 
them  Swedes.  No  wonder  I  couldn't  make  it  out. 
I  must  have  a  good  look  at  her,  anyhow." 

There  was  no  difficulty  whatever  in  obtaining  a 
full  view  of  the  songstress,  for  she  came  along 
among  the  trees  in  absolute  security  that  she  was 
neither  seen  nor  heard.  She  stood  still,  in  her  un- 
suspecting freedom,  within  twenty  feet  of  Jerry's 
log  and  raspberries,  and  turned  to  send  her  music 
back  through  the  woods,  as  if  she  were  studying 
the  effect  of  sound  in  such  an  auditorium. 

She  was  of  medium  height,  a  perfect  blonde, 
save  for  a  shade  of  reddish  chestnut  in  the  super- 
abundance of  her  braided  golden  hair.  Her  cheeks 
were  fiill  of  color,  and  as  she  turned  her  blue  eyes 
towards  his  hiding-place,  there  sank  into  the  dark 
soul  of  Jerry  McCord  the  idea  that  in  all  his  life 
he  had  never  before  seen  anything  one-half  so 
beautiful  as  this  young  girl  from  the  Norse 
country. 

Something  of  the  evil  went  out  of  his  face  and 
eyes  as  he  looked,  and  for  one  short  moment  this 
expression  grew  almost  manly.  If  intense  admira- 
tion of  maiden  beauty  had  been  his  first  emotion, 
it  was  followed  quickly  by  another,  and  his  second 


THE  PAWNEE  OUTLAWS.  93 

thought  stung  him  like  an  adder.  The  girl's  face 
wore  the  light  of  utter  innocence  and  was  lofty 
with  its  pride,  and  these  are  terrible  things  for  an 
evil  man  to  look  upon.  They  are  treasures  which 
cannot  be  his,  because  they  shrink  from  his  coming, 
and  they  wither  at  his  touch,  unless  they  are  strong 
enough  to  repel  him. 

Jerry  McCord's  eyes  flashed  and  his  bosom  rose 
and  fell.  He  made  a  slight  movement  as  if  to 
arise,  but  sank  back  again.  The  song  was  dying 
away  in  a  ripple  of  soft  music  as  he  said  to  himself, 
almost  aloud, — 

"Why  shouldn't  I  speak  to  her?  Who  is  to 
hinder  me  ?  I'll  do  it ;"  but  at  that  moment  a  voice 
a  little  like  that  of  a  trombone  came  from  the  edge 
of  the  woods  : 

"  Erica  ?  Erica  ?"  other  words  followed,  and  they 
were  evidently  a  reproving  summons,  but  whether 
they  were  Swedish  or  some  other  tongue  Jerry  did 
not  know.  She  answered  them  cheerily  with  her 
voice  and  obediently  with  her  feet,  and  they  had 
fully  warned  her  hidden  admirer  to  lie  still.  He 
slowly  arose,  as  soon  as  he  was  sure  she  could  no 
longer  get  a  glimpse  of  him.  He  even  scouted 
from  tree  to  tree  after  her  for  a  little  distance,  but 
then  he  stopped  suddenly. 

"  If  that's  her  father,"  he  said,  "  he's  a  big  one. 
Chumley's  with  him.  Glad  I  didn't  show  myself' 
but  isn't  she  a  beauty !" 


94  RED  BEAUTY. 

He  seemed  almost  bewildered  for  a  moment,  as 
if  he  had  unexpectedly  looked  upon  a  being  of 
another  and  better  world  than  the  one  he  lived  in. 
Then  the  soul  of  the  thief  came  flashing  into  his 
face,  and  it  was  easy  to  read  the  already  half-formed 
determination  that  he  would  steal  Erica  very  much 
as  if  she  were  an  uncommonly  valuable  horse, — 
worth  trouble  and  risk. 

"  I'll  find  some  way  of  speaking  to  her.  I  must 
learn  all  there  is  to  be  learned,  though,  before  I  tell 
the  Pawnees  what  my  plan  is.  We've  got  to  be 
doing  something." 


CHAPTER   X. 

A  VERY  SUDDEN  LOVER. 

JERRY  McCoRD  turned  away  from  watching  Erica 
and  walked  rapidly  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left 
his  horse.  If  the  purposes  he  had  declared  were 
to  be  carried  out,  he  had  work  before  him.  Both 
the  live-stock  and  the  young  lady  were  evidently  so 
well  protected  that  the  work  would  involve  risk  as 
well  as  enterprise.  It  was  no  wonder,  therefore, 
that  his  handsome  face  should  testify  strongly  to 
the  activity  of  his  excited  brains. 

He  rode  to  the  Pawnee  Trail  and  followed  it 
westward.  It  did  not  itself  climb  fast,  but  the  land 


A    VERY  SUDDEN  LOVER.  95 

on  either  side  did,  becoming  craggy  and  wooded, 
testifying  to  the  pioneering  genius  of  the  bisons 
who  discovered  so  good  a  pass  through  that  range 
of  hills.  He  did  not  follow  its  windings  among 
them  for  more  than  four  miles  before  he  wheeled 
to  the  left  among  the  trees,  and  a  few  rods  more 
brought  him  into  a  pretty  well-marked  path,  whose 
junction  with  the  Trail  was  scientifically  covered 
up  from  casual  observation.  It  led  him,  for  half  an 
hour's  walk,  through  dense  woods  and  narrow  de- 
files, and  then  one  of  these  widened  right  and  left, 
and  before  him  was  the  hidden  camp  of  his  chosen 
associates  in  all  its  picturesqueness  and  brutalities. 

A  group  gathered  quickly  around  him  as  he  rode 
in  and  dismounted,  but  that  was  all  the  greeting 
extended  by  rascality  to  its  leader.  The  hard- 
featured  barbarians  listened  in  stolid  silence  to  all 
he  chose  to  tell  them,  and  it  was  quickly  evident 
that  he  had  hastened  back  to  that  camp  to  prevent 
any  of  them  from  trying  plans  of  their  own  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Chumley's.  It  was  a  place  con- 
taining good  things  for  all  of  them,  but  the  man- 
agement must  be  left  to  himself,  rigidly. 

There  were  unanimous  grunts  of  assent  at  the 
conclusion  of  his  injunctions,  and  he  added, — 

"  Soon  as  I've  had  something  to  eat,  I'll  ride  right 
back  and  see  what  more  I  can  do  to-day." 

"Ugh!"  responded  a  one-eyed  brave.  "Eat  a 
heap.  Jerry  all  right." 


96  RED  BEAUTY. 

There  was  a  sort  of  rude  abundance  in  that  camp. 
A  squaw  made  coffee  for  the  hungry  head-man  of 
her  band,  while  three  others  broiled  trout  and  veni- 
son for  him,  and  there  was  even  a  supply  of  army- 
bread,  but  there  were  no  vegetables.  He  ate 
heartily,  and  then  a  fresh  horse  was  brought  to 
him,  and  he  was  once  more  in  the  saddle.  He  left 
behind  him  the  idea  that  he  should  be  gone  over- 
night, and  rode  back  to  the  Pawnee  Trail. 

Genuine  human  love  will  sometimes  kindle  sud- 
denly, but  it  rarely  blazes  at  once  to  a  fire  of  any 
great  size.  The  selfish  greed,  coveting  something 
precious  which  it  happens  to  look  upon,  and  which 
is  often  mistaken  for  love,  can  reach  its  most 
grasping  condition  in  an  hour  or  so. 

Jerry  McCord  swore  that  he  was  in  love,  sud- 
denly, desperately,  with  the  unknown  beauty  who 
had  sung  so  sweetly.  He  had  a  strange  idea  that 
his  own  desperate  career  was  that  of  a  sort  of  hero 
of  border  romance,  and  now  there  was  positive  ex- 
hilaration in  the  romantic  nature  of  his  present  ad- 
venture. It  hardly  occurred  to  him  that  he,  the 
wild,  elegant,  daring,  dashing,  and  very  handsome 
rover,  could  fail  of  fascinating  the  bewildered  girl 
upon  whom  he  might  choose  to  bring  his  fascina- 
tions to  bear.  At  the  same  time  he  was  keenly 
aware  that  his  Pawnees  would  be  unprofitable  com- 
panions for  him  while  he  should  be  courting. 

Scouting  around  among  trees  and  bushes  in  a 


A    VERY  SUDDEN  LOVER.  97 

vague  hope  that  a  young  lady  may  come,  and 
troubled  by  much  doubt  if  she  would  do  so,  was  a 
good  process  for  the  promotion  of  such  a  fever  of 
vanity  as  had  taken  possession  of  Jerry.  It  grew 
more  and  more  intense  all  that  afternoon,  until  he 
felt  as  if  it  must  already  have  had  some  effect  upon 
Erica.  He  had  heard  her  called  by  that  name,  and 
now  he  called  her  by  it,  as  if  practising  its  most 
winning  modulations,  while  he  was  preparing  him- 
self to  tell  his  tale  of  love.  He  also  settled  in  his 
prudent  mind  what  name  he  should  give  himself 
for  her  to  call  him  by. 

Hour  after  hour  went  by  and  Erica  did  not  come, 
but  somebody  else  did.  This  time  it  was  not  a 
young  lady,  but  a  somewhat  young  and  frisky 
cow. 

"  That's  it,"  exclaimed  Jerry;  "  if  I  can  coop  up 
that  cow  Erica  will  be  likely  to  come  for  her,  and 
I'll  have  a  chance  of  my  own  making." 

It  was  a  stroke  of  genius  worthy  of  a  hero  of 
romance  who  dared  not  call  openly  at  the  residence 
of  his  lady-love.  The  mild-eyed  animal  who  had 
rashly  ventured  too  far  under  the  shade  of  the  trees 
was  driven  yet  farther.  She  did  not  seem  even 
startled  by  so  unexpected  a  meeting,  and  went 
along  peaceably  enough  at  first.  As  time  went  by, 
however,  she  unfolded  the  fact  that  she  had  a  femi- 
nine will  of  her  own,  and  she  gave  more  and  more 
trouble  to  the  romantic  human  lover  who  proposed 
B  g  9 


98  REU   BEAUTY. 

to  make  "  bait"  of  her.  He  had  no  rope  to  tie  her 
with,  and  it  looked  very  much  as  if  she  was  minded 
to  go  to  the  house  and  report  what  was  going  on  in 
the  woods.  Her  feelings  grew  yet  stronger  towards 
sunset,  and  Jerry  was  compelled  to  all  but  wrestle 
with  that  homesick  cow.  By  steady  persistence, 
however,  he  succeeded  in  detaining  her  long  enough 
for  his  brilliant  stratagem  to  work. 

It  was  truly  a  gem  of  strategy.  Other  cattle 
came  in  from  the  prairie  and  the  pasture-lot  at 
their  proper  time,  but  Erica's  own  favorite  heifer 
arrived  not  with  them.  She  had  been  seen  near 
the  edge  of  the  timber,  and  Chumley  offered  to  go 
and  hunt  her  up.  Erica  laughingly  refused  his 
proposal  and  hurried  away  on  what  she  said  was 
her  own  errand.  So  it  was,  but  so  little  did  she 
know  of  its  real  nature  that  she  walked  on,  singing 
a  Swedish  song,  straight  into  the  trap  which  had 
been  baited  for  her  with  that  cow.  She  nevertheless 
owed  something  to  the  obstinacy  of  the  latter.  At 
the  first  sound  of  the  carol  the  cow  lowered  her 
horns  and  made  so  bold  a  charge  at  her  oppressor 
that  she  got  past  him  and  trotted  briskly  towards 
the  music. 

Jerry  McCord  did  not  run,  but  he  was  forced  to 
walk  undignifiedly  fast  in  order  to  meet  Erica 
where  her  heifer  did. 

That  was  a  moment  of  profound  surprise.  The 
surprise,  in  fact,  had  already  cut  short  the  carol, 


A    VERY  SUDDEN  LOVER.  99 

for  her  first  glimpse  of  the  stranger  had  brought 
into  her  mind  the  hasty  question, — 

"  He  didn't  mean  to  steal  her,  did  he  ?" 

Jerry  did  not  know  that,  and  the  suspicion 
vanished  now,  as  he  raised  his  hat  in  a  salutation 
loaded  down  with  the  most  profound  respect  and 
admiration.  She  returned  the  bow  mechanically, 
but  its  coming  then  and  there  was  a  somewhat 
startling  incident  in  the  humdrum  experience  of 
an  unsophisticated  young  lady  dwelling  on  that 
lonely  prairie.  Her  cheeks  crimsoned  for  no  cause 
whatever,  and  her  parted  lips  uttered  no  sound. 
She  felt  very  much  like  following  the  example  of 
the  cow,  who  had  now  started  on  a  heavy  run  for 
the  house.  It  was  not  a  long  run,  but  it  had  con- 
sequences of  some  importance  to  Jerry  McCord. 
He  was  too  far  away  to  hear  Erica's  mother  say  to 
her  husband, — 

"  There !  There's  that  cow.  Erica  might  hunt 
her  for  an  hour,  Grustav.  Go  down  to  the  edge  of 
the  woods  and  shout  for  her  to  come  home." 

Gustav  put  down  the  pail  of  milk  he  had  brought, 
and  moved  away  somewhat  leisurely  to  obey  his 
wife.  His  walk,  added  to  the  cow's  run,  gave  Jerry 
McCord  all  the  time  he  was  to  have,  but  he  used  it 
with  notable  energy.  He  had  feared  that  such  a 
first  interview  was  likely  to  be  brief,  and  he  struck 
at  once. 

No  thought  whatever  concerning  him  had  yet 


100  RED  BEAUTF. 

taken  shape  in  Erica's  mind,  now  that  she  was  sure 
that  the  cow  was  safe,  but  the  reverential  bow  he 
began  with  terminated,  and  a  very  good-looking 
face  put  on  all  the  expressiveness  its  owner  was 
master  of  while  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  she  was 
sure  she  had  never  before  heard, — 

"  Erica !  Erica !  I  have  seen  the  most  beautiful 
woman  in  the  world " 

"  Sir !"  she  exclaimed,  in  an  altogether  involun- 
tary interruption.  "  What  ?  Where  did  you  come 
from?" 

Great  as  was  her  astonishment,  there  was  nothing 
unpleasant  about  him,  and  his  manner  was  not  cal 
culated  to  arouse  fear.  Erica  was  very  young ;  she 
was  uncommonly  ignorant  of  the  wicked  world  and 
its  ways,  and  this  was  the  most  unexpected  of  all 
good-looking  men. 

"Erica!"  he  again  exclaimed,  with  passionate 
earnestness  and  outstretched  hands,  "  I  will  tell  you 
all  about  myself  hereafter.  My  name  is  Edward 
Payne.  I  am  a  gentleman.  A  man  of  honor.  I 
have  seen  you  and  I  have  loved  you.  For  days  and 
days  I  have  watched  in  these  woods,  seeking  an 
opportunity  to  speak  to  you.  At  last  that  oppor- 
tunity has  come,  and  you  must  hear  me !" 

He  had  lied  more  or  less,  and  he  had  said  noth- 
ing about  the  cow,  but  she  had  heard  him.  While 
doing  so  she  had  looked  at  him  somewhat  un- 
steadily, for  she  was  walking  backward  and  watch- 


A    VERY  SUDDEN  LOVER.  101 

ing  her  footsteps  that  she  might  not  be  tripped  up 
by  anything,  stick  or  stone.  Her  surprise  was  so 
overwhelming  that  it  made  her  do  the  wisest  thing 
she  could,  for  she  did  not  reply  to  him  by  a  syllable. 
He  had  followed  her  retreat,  and  now  he  sprang 
forward  and  caught  her  by  the  wrist,  pleading  with 
desperate  earnestness, — 

"  Wait,  Erica !     Hear  me !" 

She  could  not  have  denied  that  he  was  handsome 
or  that  he  pleaded  well,  and  a  declaration  of  love 
is  at  any  time  a  wonderful  thing  for  a  girl  to  hear. 
It  was  particularly  wonderful  just  now,  coming 
without  any  warning  and  from  an  utter  stranger. 
Still,  the  hand  upon  her  wrist  sent  a  thrill  of  fear 
over  her  so  sharply  that  she  screamed  aloud, — 

"  Sir !  Sir !  I  do  not  know  you !  I — I  do  not 
wish  to  hear  you.  Let  me  go !" 

"  Will  you  not  listen  to  me  for  one  short  moment, 
Erica?" 

"  N"o,  sir !     I  won't  hear  anything !" 

"  I  love  you.     Oh,  Erica !" 

"  I  don't  care  if  you  do.     Let  go  of  my  hand !" 

"  Oh,  Erica !" 

Just  those  very  words  sounded  at  that  moment 
at  the  edge  of  the  woods  in  the  trombone  voice  of 
her  father : 

"  Oh,  Erica !     The  cow  is  home !" 

"  That's  my  father.     I'll  call  him.     I'll  call  Mr. 

Chumley, — my  mother  !     Sir,  let  me  go !" 

9* 


102  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Erica,"  said  he,  persistently,  "  I  must  leave  you 
now,  but  we  shall  surely  meet  again.  Do  not  forget 
me.  I  am  a  man  of  honor,  but  there  are  reasons 
why  I  cannot  now  come  to  your  house  openly " 

"  Father !"  she  shouted,  and  at  that  word  she  was 
free.  She  saw  a  blue  suit  disappearing  rapidly 
among  the  trees  while  she  was  rubbing  a  hand 
which  had  been  kissed  against  her  will.  Her  first 
romance  had  come  to  her,  and  she  had  only  a 
woman's  keen  natural  instincts  to  tell  her  how 
tremendously  absurd  it  all  was.  Her  face  flushed 
and  paled,  her  bosom  rose  and  fell,  and  she  stood 
still  for  half  a  minute  to  calm  herself,  now  that  the 
intruder  had  disappeared.  As  for  Gustav,  he  had 
mistaken  her  shout  for  an  answer  to  his  summons, 
and  was  merely  waiting  for  her.  She  was  glad  he 
was  there,  and  yet  she  felt  that  he  was  not  the  pre- 
cise person  she  most  wished  to  see. 

"Father,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  want  to  see 
mother !" 

"What's  the  matter?  Have  you  been  frightened 
by  anything  ?" 

"A  man!  He  spoke  to  me.  He  is  gone.  I 
must  see  mother." 

That  brief  conversation  had  been  in  pure  Swedish, 
and  all  slowness  had  vanished  from  Gustav's  move- 
ments. He  sprang  away  among  the  trees  to  hunt 
for  the  man  who  had  so  scared  his  daughter,  in 
spite  of  all  her  assurances  that  she  did  not  know  in 


A    VERY  SUDDEN  LOVER.  1Q3 

what  direction  he  had  retreated.  Whatever  that 
may  have  been,  Gustav  missed  it  entirely,  and  it 
was  just  as  well  that  he  did  so,  considering  that 
he  was  entirely  unarmed.  He  returned  in  a  few 
minutes,  convinced  that  a  forest  offers  perfect  hid- 
ing-places, but  he  was  in  error  about  that.  Jerry 
McCord  had  not  hidden.  He  had  but  walked  away 
rapidly  towards  the  spot  where  his  horse  was  tied, 
and  had  no  idea  that  anybody  would  follow  him. 

"  I've  made  a  good  beginning,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Of  course  she  was  startled.  I  expected  that.  Her 
father's  coming  cut  me  short  a  little.  She  will 
listen  to  all  I  have  to  say  next  time." 

The  idea  was  very  strong  upon  him  that  he  had 
made  an  impression,  and  beyond  all  doubt  he  had 
done  so.  Possibly  it  was  not  precisely  what  he 
imagined,  however,  for  it  sent  Erica  to  her  mother 
with  a  full  account  of  the  occurrence,  while  the  first 
thing  done  by  Gustav  on  reaching  the  house  was  to 
take  down  a  double-barrelled  gun  from  its  hooks  and 
shake  his  head  over  it  with  a  deep-chested  growl 
which  boded  buckshot  for  some  unknown  "  game." 

On  the  whole,  there  were  promises  of  obstacles 
to  be  in  the  way  of  future  meetings  between  the 
romantic  horse-thief  and  the  beautiful  object  of  his 
self-confident  devotion.  It  is  an  old  proverb  that 
the  course  of  true  love  itself  never  did  run  smooth, 
and  in  this  case  it  might  be  made  to  apply  to  the 
counterfeit. 


104  RED  BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER   XL 

THE  MUNRO  OUTFIT. 

HUNDREDS  of  travelling  parties,  cavalcades,  mi- 
grations, moccasined  or  booted,  hoofed  or  cloven- 
footed,  had  from  time  to  time  trodden  the  ancient 
pathway  known  as  the  Pawnee  Trail.  Not  many 
among  them,  however,  had  been  more  worthy  of 
note  than  one  which  plodded  along,  almost  but  not 
quite  in  sight  of  the  wooded  western  hill  ranges, 
on  the  second  day  after  Erica  and  her  cow  had  so 
romantic  an  adventure. 

It  was  also  the  second  day  of  June,  and  the 
weather  was  warm. 

The  outfit  to  be  remarked  upon  consisted  of  four 
large,  tilted  wagons,  each  drawn  by  four  yoke  of 
well-to-do  oxen.  "With  these  as  a  sort  of  main  body, 
it  also  consisted  of  half  a  dozen  cows  that  followed 
the  wagons ;  two  women  on  horseback  that  followed 
the  cows ;  one  mounted  man  on  each  side  of  the 
train  and  one  in  advance ;  one  large  dog  well  in 
advance  of  that  foremost  horseman ;  a  parrot  in  his 
cage,  swinging  from  the  tilt  of  the  head  wagon; 
and  a  huge,  gray  Thomas  cat  who  sat  on  the  seat 
under  the  parrot,  as  if  keeping  an  eye  on  the  oxen. 

Only  the  rearmost  wagon  contained  passengers. 


THE  MUNRO    OUTFIT.  1Q5 

Every  now  and  then  a  voice  came  from  it  that 
seemed  to  call  for  attention  to  a  discontented  matron 
whose  eight  Berkshire  pigs  refused  to  keep  still. 
Her  appeals  from  time  to  time  called  jocular  re- 
marks about  "Jemima  and  her  family"  from  the 
ladies  on  horseback,  and  now  and  then  one  of 
these  rode  nearer  to  see  if  all  was  well  in  "  the 
cabin." 

Those  women  were  a  remarkably  bright  and 
healthy-looking  pair,  black-eyed,  black-haired,  brisk 
and  tidy.  The  younger  may  have  been  nineteen, 
and  promised  to  be  the  very  pattern  of  her  mother ; 
and  the  latter  may  have  been  forty,  but  had  not  lost 
her  roses,  and  had  an  air  of  being  where  she  was  in 
the  rear  because  of  having  energy  enough  to  drive 
that  entire  outfit  right  along  before  her. 

It  needed  driving,  for  the  oxen  were  fat  and  heavy 
fellows  that  showed  no  signs  of  the  long  journey 
behind  them.  Excellent  care  had  been  given  them, 
but  it  could  not  have  been  by  the  long,  lank,  take- 
the-world-easy  kind  of  man  whose  loose  legs  dangled 
on  either  side  of  the  horse  to  the  left  of  them. 
Neither  was  there  much  of  a  business  appearance 
about  the  rider  on  the  right,  for  he  was  looking 
through  a  huge  pair  of  green  goggles  at  all  the  world 
around  him,  but  never  at  the  oxen.  They  plodded 
on  so  steadily,  perhaps,  as  a  matter  of  habit ;  per- 
haps because  they  knew  of  that  black-eyed  woman 
behind  them;  perhaps  because  the  foremost  team 


106  RED  BEAUTY. 

was  lazily  following  the  movements  of  the  horseman 
ahead  and  the  big  dog.  Every  now  and  then,  as 
the  wagon  that  he  adorned  gave  a  lurch,  the  parrot 
would  balance  himself  or  take  a  swing,  and  shout 
queer  English  at  the  cat  or  the  oxen : 

"  Me-a-ow !  Yow  !  Hip, — haw, — gee, — g'lang ! 
Pretty  Polly!  Oh,  don't!" 

Prairie  travelling  excited  him  even  more  than 
it  did  Jemima,  but  the  cat  took  it  all  in  dignified 
repose. 

The  ladies,  older  as  well  as  younger,  seemed  to 
be  continually  on  the  watch  for  objects  of  interest, 
and  their  glances  went  behind  as  well  as  forward. 

"Mother,"  suddenly  exclaimed  the  latter,  "just 
as  I  said." 

"  Man  coming  ?" 

"Man  on  horseback.  He's  hidden  by  a  knoll 
now." 

"  There  he  comes,  Jessie ;  I  see  him.  I  hope 
he'll  turn  out  to  be  somebody  that  knows  something 
about  the  country.  Your  father  and  your  uncle  take 
things  too  much  for  granted." 

"  Everything's  as  beautiful  as  it  was  painted  so 
far.  There " 

Her  mother  was  at  that  moment  looking  at  her, 
and  not  at  the  landscape  or  the  coming  rider.  If 
her  eyes  correctly  presented  the  thought  in  her 
mind,  it  might  have  been  translated, — 

"  And  the  most  beautiful  thing  here,  after  all,  is 


THE  MUNRO   OUTFIT.  107 

the  daughter  we  have  brought  out  to  hide  her  in 
this  frontier  solitude." 

One  horseman  came  galloping  after  them  along 
the  Trail,  and  no  more  female  heads  turned  to  see 
him  come.  He  left  behind  him  something  which 
had  escaped  all  the  eyes  in  that  train  as  it  went  by 
a  reedy,  weedy  hollow,  behind  a  high  roll.  Until 
the  train  had  gotten  well  beyond  it  there  had  been 
four  men  in  that  hollow,  all  dismounted,  and  there 
had  been  strange  talk  among  them  before  either  of 
them  was  again  in  the  saddle.  Now  three  of  them 
were  out  of  sight  of  the  train,  making  a  long  de- 
tour to  the  left,  but  riding  as  if  they  had  an  ap- 
pointment to  keep  with  somebody,  and  of  those 
three  not  one  was  a  white  man. 

The  horseman  who  left  his  companions  to  follow 
the  immigrant  train  sobered  his  pace  as  he  drew 
nearer,  remarking  to  himself, — 

"  Ladies,  eh  ?  Glad  of  that.  I  can  learn  all  I 
want  to  from  them." 

At  that  moment  Jessie  said  to  her  mother, — 

"  He  is  very  near  us  now." 

"  Ride  on  and  tell  your  uncle  to  come  back  and 
talk  with  him.  I'll  speak  to  your  father." 

Both  errands  were  begun  at  the  word,  but  Jessie's 
was  delivered  first. 

"  Uncle  John,  somebody's  coming." 

"  Coming  ?  Yes, — well, — suppose  there  is.  I'll 
have  a  talk  with  him.  Only  we  don't  know  the 


108  RED  BEAUTY. 

character  of  the  people  we  meet.  So  far  as  I've 
seen,  it's  all  a  kind  of  mutual  admiration  society 
and  there  isn't  a  sinner  on  the  whole  prairie." 

"  He  has  almost  caught  up.  Mother  is  speaking 
to  father  about  him." 

So  she  was,  and  she  was  saying, — 

"  Now,  husband,  I  want  you  to  get  all  the  infor- 
mation you  can  out  of  him.  Be  particular  and 
make  him  tell  all  he  knows  about  Mr.  Chumley. 
It's  very  important  that  we  should  know  what  sort 
of  a  man  our  next  neighbor  is." 

"  My  dear,  the  agent  and  the  surveyor  spoke  of 
him  very  highly  indeed." 

"  So  they  did  of  everything  and  everybody.  I'd 
like  to  hear  the  other  side." 

"  Perhaps  we  can  get  some  of  it.     Here  he  is." 

Only  a  minute  and  a  half  elapsed  after  that 
before  the  solitary  horseman  had  introduced  him- 
self as  Mr.  Edward  Payne,  and  had  discovered  that 
all  these  people  bore  the  name  of  Munro. 

Mrs.  Munro's  piercing  black  eyes  had  criticised 
him  from  head  to  foot.  They  had  also  taken  in- 
stant notice  that  he  seemed  almost  unable  to  re- 
move the  gaze  of  his  own  from  the  face  of  Jessie. 
He  was  a  dashing,  handsome  fellow,  well  dressed, 
well  mounted,  and  overflowingly  polite. 

"  Did  he  know  the  country  ?" 

Certainly.  All  of  it.  He  owned  property  farther 
west,  and  was  now  on  his  way  home.  He  was  there- 


THE  MUNRO   OUTFIT.  1Q9 

fore  in  some  haste,  lest  lie  should  not  get  there 
before  night. 

"  Mr.  Payne,"  said  Mrs.  Munro  herself,  after 
her  husband  had  neglected  to  ask,  "  do  you  know 
a  man  by  the  name  of  Chumley?  Our  land  joins 
with  his." 

"  Yes,"  said  Uncle  John.  "  What's  his  charac- 
ter?" 

"  I  can't  say  I  know  him,"  said  Payne,  slowly. 
"  I  know  of  him.  I'd  rather  not  speak  of  him.  It 
isn't  safe  to  say  what  one  thinks  of  some  men." 

"I  see,"  said  Uncle  John.  "Violent  and  all 
that." 

"  My  life  wouldn't  be  safe  for  a  day,  I'm  told." 

"  You  may  depend  upon  our  silence,"  said  Mrs. 
Munro.  "Is  there  really  anything  against  him? 
"Will  he  be  a  bad  neighbor  ?" 

"  Madame,"  said  Payne,  bowing  very  respectfully, 
"  I  know  nothing  whatever  against  Mr.  Chumley. 
I  do  not  know  why  his  wife  does  not  live  with  him. 
I  do  not  know  why  men  are  afraid  to  quarrel  with 
him.  I  do  not  know  but  what  he  obtained  all  his 
property  honestly.  Nobody  could  prove  by  me 
that  he  ever  played  a  game  of  cards  in  his  life. 
Nobody  on  this  prairie  ever  knew  where  he  came 
from,  or  anything  about  him." 

"  That's  not  a  good  character  for  any  man  to 
have,"  said  Uncle  John,  thoughtfully,  and  Payne 

added, — 

10 


HO  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  I  Jo  not  see  how  he  could  fail  to  live  at  peace 
with  such  neighbors  as  he  is  about  to  have." 

That  bow  was  at  Jessie,  and  was  so  pointed  and 
full  of  expression  that  it  brought  the  color  to  her 
face. 

During  a  full  half-hour  the  stranger  was  detained 
by  a  cross-examination  concerning  men  and  things 
on  that  frontier,  and  Mr.  Munro  finally  declared  to 
him, — 

"We  are  greatly  obliged.  You  have  told  us 
more  than  we  knew  about  a  great  many  important 
matters.  Call  and  see  us  after  we  get  settled." 

"  I  shall  do  so  with  pleasure,"  replied  Payne, 
with  a  powerful  glance  at  Jessie ;  "  but  I  must  hurry 
forward  now." 

Once  only,  during  that  time,  had  the  advance- 
guard  of  the  Munro  outfit  ridden  back  for  a  look 
at  the  stranger  and  to  be  introduced  as  Mr.  Perry 
Munro.  The  dog  did  not  come  back  and  was  not 
introduced. 

Perry  could  hardly  have  been  "  of  age,"  but 
Payne  was  justified  in  saying  to  himself,  "  This  is 
the  captain,  or  I'm  mistaken.  Unless  his  mother 
is." 

At  all  events  he  had  attained  a  height  of  full  six 
feet  and  an  uncommon  breadth  of  shoulder.  His 
black  moustaches  were  as  yet  soft  and  downy,  and 
his  rosy  cheeks  were  smooth.  His  wide-brimmed 
felt  hat  rested  upon  a  profusion  of  jetty  curls.  IJjs 


THE  MUNRO   OUTFIT. 

merry  black  eyes  were  as  searching  as  his  mother's 
and  as  brilliant  as  those  of  Mr.  Payne,  and  they 
added  to  his  other  tokens  of  energy  and  force  a 
strong  suggestion  of  a  quick  and  fiery  temper.  He 
and  Payne  looked  one  another  smilingly  in  the  face 
for  a  minute  or  so,  while  he  asked  questions  about 
the  nearest  good  spot  to  camp  in,  and  then  he  rode 
back  to  his  place  behind  the  dog.  To  him  he  re- 
marked,— 

"Bob,  we  shall  reach  that  grove  before  noon;" 
and  to  himself  he  added,  "  I  can't  guess  what  it  is 
that  makes  me  distrust  that  fellow.  If  he  ever 
comes  around  our  place  I  shall  watch  him." 

Bob  the  dog  was  an  English  mastiff  of  the 
largest  size,  and  just  the  fellow  to  have  around  in 
case  there  should  be  anybody  to  watch.  Tawny, 
deep-chested,  and  lion-faced,  he  was  as  handsome 
as  his  master. 

Mr.  Payne  swung  his  hat  cheerily  as  he  now 
galloped  past  Perry  and  shouted, — 

"  You'll  be  on  your  own  land  by  night.  Hope 
you'll  find  it  all  you  could  ask.  Good-day." 

"  Good-day,"  said  Perry.  "  Wish  you  a  pleasant 
journey." 

Nevertheless  he  was  dimly  aware  that  the  man 
Payne  had  understood  the  glance  of  dislike  with 
which  that  farewell  was  accompanied. 

There  were  no  disparaging  remarks  made  about 
Mr.  Payne  by  the  other  members  of  the  Munro 


112  RED  BEAUTY. 

family,  but  it  was  quite  natural  that  they  should 
discuss  the  news  he  left  behind  him  rather  than 
himself.  It  was  not  long  before  they  were  all  back 
in  their  customary  places,  and  now  even  Uncle 
John  urged  the  oxen.  The  sun  indicated  that  the 
time  for  a  mid-day  halt  was  nearly  upon  them. 

That  country  is  full  of  capital  camping-grounds, 
and  the  bisons  who  marked  out  the  Pawnee  Trail 
knew  every  spring  and  grove.  Payne  had  assured 
Perry  that  it  led  into  that  sort  of  a  place  quickly, 
and  now  a  large  and  promising  group  of  oaks  was 
visible,  right  on  their  line  of  march.  It  seemed  to 
call  for  Bob's  investigation,  and  he  at  once  dashed 
forward.  He  paused  under  the  first  oak  to  send 
back  a  deep  "  woof,"  in  token  that  he  was  pleased 
with  what  he  had  found,  and  in  two  minutes  more 
he  and  Perry  were  looking  down  into  a  fine  pool 
of  water  fed  by  a  capital  spring. 

"  You  are  right  about  it,  Bob,"  said  Perry.  "  It's 
just  the  spot.  We'll  rest  here  awhile,  and  we'll 
get  to  Chumley's  Post  long  before  sundown." 

The  sight  of  the  grove  had  summoned  Jessie 
forward  also,  but  she  had  reined  in  her  horse  at  the 
side  of  Uncle  John  to  ask  him, — 

"  What  are  you  staring  at  now,  Uncle  John  ?  Do 
you  see  anything  new  ?" 

"  Nothing  yet,  Jessie.  I  think  I  shall  wear  my 
blue  glasses  this  afternoon.  There  is  almost  too 
much  green." 


THE  MUNRO   OUTFIT.  H3 

Jessie's  answering  laugh  and  the  lift  of  her  bridle 
sent  her  horse  forward  to  the  side  of  her  brother. 

"  Jessie,"  said  he,  "  I  wish  we  could  pick  up  this 
place,  spring  and  all,  and  put  it  down  again  on  our 
own  land." 

"  So  do  I.     This  is  lovely." 

"  Well,  if  the  land  agent  didn't  lie,  we  shall  have 
all  the  timber  we  need,  and  water  too." 

"  Mr.  Payne  said  so.  But,  Perry,  isn't  it  disgust- 
ing that  we  are  to  have  such  a  man  as  Chumley  for 
a  neighbor  ?" 

"  A  chap  that  can't  live  with  his  wife  ?" 

"  Horrid  old  fellow !"  exclaimed  Jessie,  sharply, 
evidently  imaging  some  unpleasant,  middle-aged 
reprobate.  The  strength  of  her  impression  even 
added  needless  energy  to  her  independent  way  of 
dismounting  and  of  caring  for  her  own  horse  and 
her  mother's  while  the  latter  kindled  a  fire.  It  was 
wonderful  how  quickly  the  sticks  came  into  order 
and  blazed  up.  There  was  a  good  glow  by  the 
time  Uncle  John  had  examined  the  pebbles  by  the 
spring  and  had  decided  that  they  were  "  mostly 
limestone." 

The  cat  sprang  down  from  his  perch  and  darted 
away  on  a  hunt  of  some  sort,  and  the  parrot  from 
his  shouted  "  water,  water,"  after  the  oxen,  as  Perry 
unyoked  them  and  led  them  away  to  pick  grass  for 
themselves  under  the  guardianship  of  Bob. 

Jessie  was  yet  busy  with  her  own  equine  favorite 

A  10* 


114  RED   BEAUTY. 

when  a  series  of  loud  complaints  from  two  of  the 
wagons  seemed  to  be  especially  addressed  to  her, 
and  she  replied  to  them, — 

"  You  needn't  squeal  like  that,  Jemima.  This  is 
your  last  day's  ride.  You'll  be  rooting  on  your  own 
land  to-morrow.  Polly,  you  keep  still.  You  can't 
have  one  mouthful  till  you've  said  Pawnee." 

"  Hip, — hip !"  screamed  the  parrot.  "  Me-a-ow. 
Poll  want  cracker." 

Jemima's  time  for  attention  had  not  come,  al- 
though she  repeated  her  demands ;  but  in  a  minute 
or  so  Jessie  stood  on  the  tongue  of  the  wagon,  in 
front  of  Polly's  cage,  with  no  one  to  tell  her  how 
pretty  she  looked  as  she  insisted, — 

"  Say  it,  you  old  rascal !" 

"  Old  rascal,"  echoed  Poll. 

"  Pawnee !    Pawnee !"  urged  Jessie. 

"  Paw, — me-a-ow, — rascal !"  squawked  the  parrot, 
angrily. 

"  Pawnee !" 

"Poll  want  cracker.  Pawnee, — pawnee, — paw- 
nee,— me-a-ow !" 

"  You've  got  it.  I  heard  you  practising  it  along 
the  road.  You  obstinate  old  bird  !" 

The  bits  of  "  hard-tack"  cracker  which  rewarded 
him  were  received  with  a  mosaic  of  squalls  and  syl- 
lables which  did  him  credit,  only  that  some  of 
them  sounded  as  if  his  education  had  been  begun 
on  shipboard. 


THE  MUNRO    OUTFIT.  H5 

It  was  a  sort  of  family  picnic,  under  very  favor- 
able conditions.  By  the  time  all  the  animals  were 
attended  to  and  even  the  voice  of  Jemima  ceased  to 
plead,  the  smell  of  coffee  boiling  and  bacon  frying 
arose  and  floated  off  among  the  trees  to  the  nose  of 
every  human  being  there.  It  told  of  a  noonday 
meal  very  quickly  prepared,  but  the  cat  had  beaten 
Mrs.  Munro.  Away  in  the  edge  of  the  grove  he 
had  found  and  slain  an  infant  rabbit  and  was  already 
eating  his  dinner. 

There  was  a  very  merry  picnic  there,  noisy  with 
talk  about  land  and  neighbors  and  good  times  to 
come,  but  there  was  an  altogether  different  gather- 
ing little  more  than  half  a  mile  away. 

The  polite  horseman  who  had  so  fully  answered 
all  their  inquiries  about  Chumley  and  the  region 
around  about  was  still  in  the  saddle,  and  so  were 
three  Pawnees  who  were  listening  to  what  he  had 
to  say.  He  was  giving  them  a  very  accurate  ac- 
count of  the  Munro  outfit  and  its  immediate  destina- 
tion, and  when  he  had  finished  it  a  dusky  barbarian 
nodded  his  head  and  replied, — 

"  Ugh !  Good.  No  take  'em  now.  By  and  by 
no  lookout.  Dog  die.  Get  all  horse  then." 

That  this  was  the  general  opinion  of  the  future 
fate  of  a  part  at  least  of  the  Munro  quadruped 
property  was  signified  by  a  chorus  of  grunts.  The 
four  rode  along  in  company,  and  the  red  men  had 
no  means  of  guessing  the  nature  of  that  part  of  the 


116  RED  BEAUTY. 

treasure  which  Jerry  McCord-Payne  had  not  re- 
ported to  them.  He  said  to  himself  concerning  it, — 
"  Her  mother  called  her  Jessie.  She  is  as  beau- 
tiful as  Erica.  The  most  perfect  pair  of  opposites 
that  could  he  made.  A  fellow  could  not  be  in  love 
with  two  blondes  at  the  same  time,  but  a  blonde  and 
a  brunette,  that's  different.  I  can  call  and  see  Jes- 
sie again  at  any  time,  but  I  suppose  I  must  look  out 
for  Chumley.  His  time  is  coming.  He  is  the  only 
man  in  all  this  tract  of  country  that  can  spot  me. 
That's  enough  to  settle  his  fate  for  him." 


CHAPTER    XII. 

OHUMLEY'S  POST. 

many  miles  beyond  the  grove  in  which  the 
Munro  family  were  taking  their  noonday  meal,  the 
Pawnee  Trail  came  to  a  spot  where  there  was  little 
to  tempt  anybody  to  stand  still.  On  the  summit 
of  a  gentle  knoll,  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  Trail, 
stood  about  twenty  feet  of  what  had  once  been  the 
trunk  of  a  young  hickory-tree.  It  seemed  a  sort 
of  landmark,  and  at  the  base  of  it  there  was  a  very 
curious  collection  of  antiquities.  Somebody  had 
taken  the  pains  to  make  that  post  uncanny.  That 


CHUMLErS  POST.  117 

person  or  persons  had  brought  a  lot  of  old,  weather- 
whitened  buffalo  skulls  and  skulls  of  horses  and 
other  animals  such  as  every  old  prairie  road  abounds 
with,  and  had  heaped  them  around  the  foot  of  the 
hickory.  Among  these,  without  any  human  help 
whatever,  flying  seeds  had  fallen  and  rooted  and 
grown,  until  now  a  mass  of  briers  and  thistles  had 
risen  to  prosperity,  with  the  old  horns  and  bones 
peeping  out  here  and  there  among  them. 

To  the  right,  the  unbroken  prairie  swept  away 
for  half  a  mile  in  green  rolls,  to  the  borders  of  a 
line  of  timber,  with  hilly  and  broken-looking  land 
beyond  it.  To  the  left,  there  was  forest  within  a 
quarter  of  a  mile.  Nearer  than  that,  however, 
there  were  fences  and  growing  corn,  and  over  these 
arose  the  roof  and  chimney  of  a  human  dwelling. 

Right  past  the  queer  landmark  the  Pawnee  Trail 
went  on  in  nearly  a  bee-line  until  it  lost  itself 
among  the  trees,  but  before  it  did  that  it  came  to  a 
man.  He  was  well  but  roughly  dressed ;  a  strongly- 
built  fellow  of  about  twenty-five  or,  it  might  be,  a 
little  more.  His  face  was  deeply  marked,  and  just 
now  it  was  decidedly  cloudy.  It  was  crowned  by 
crisp,  brown  hair,  and  his  steel-gray  eyes  looked 
out  under  jutting  brows.  His  shortly-trimmed 
beard  and  moustaches  did  not  conceal  the  iron  de- 
termination expressed  by  his  mouth.  In  fact,  his 
jaws  and  lips  had  set  themselves  together  with  a 
firmness  which  suggested  the  idea  that  it  would 


118  RED  BEAUTY. 

require  an  effort  for  him  to  get  them  apart  wide 
enough  for  his  next  speaking  or  eating. 

Such  an  effort  he  now  made,  and  as  he  did  so, 
he  half  affectionately  patted  the  butt  of  a  silver- 
mounted  repeating  rifle,  the  barrel  of  which  lay  in 
the  crook  of  his  left  arm.  His  eyes  were  glancing, 
with  a  glitter  in  them,  along  the  Trail  towards  the 
prairie.  A  party  of  men  was  coming  from  that 
direction,  and  had  reduced  the  speed  of  their 
horses  from  a  gallop  to  a  walk  as  soon  as  they 
came  in  sight  of  him.  If  they  were  consulting  as 
to  any  course  of  action  they  might  be  about  to 
take,  so  was  he. 

"  Four  of  you,"  he  said,  aloud,  "  and  the  glass 
told  me  who  you  were.  I'll  stand  still  and  see  if  I 
can't  find  out  something  more." 

Not  a  step  did  he  move  as  they  drew  nearer,  and 
they  did  not  hear  him  say  to  himself, — 

"  Jerry  McCord  and  three  of  his  Pawnees." 

Every  redskin  of  them  nodded  his  head  and  said 
"  How"  as  he  went  by,  and  the  handsome  white 
man  in  the  blue  suit  lifted  his  Panama  with  mock- 
ing courtesy  of  manner,  but  the  stern  man  on  foot 
did  not  move  a  muscle  or  utter  a  sound.  His 
glittering  gray  eyes  looked  full  into  the  face  of 
Jerry  McCord,  while  his  own  features  grew  gray 
rather  than  red.  They  expressed  an  intensity  of 
feeling  which  could  hardly  be  accounted  for  by  the 
loss  of  live-stock,  irritating  as  that  may  be,  and  yet 


CRUMLEY'S  POST.  119 

the  first  words  uttered,  after  the  four  riders  went 
by,  were, — 

"  It's  a  fact.  Jerry  McCord  and  Mortimer  Her- 
ries  are  the  same  man.  That  isn't  all.  I  know 
now  who  it  was  that  lay  in  wait  for  Erica.  He'd 
have  killed  me  dead  on  the  spot  if  he  had  dared, 
for  he  now  knows  that  I  know  him.  I  think  he 
will  come  this  way  once  too  often." 

He  paused  a  moment,  and  then  he  suddenly  ex- 
claimed,— 

"Erica?  What  have  I  to  do  with  her ?  What 
is  she  to  me  ?  What  am  I  to  her  ?  No !  A  thou- 
sand times  no.  I  shall  never  again  care  for  a 
woman,  but  I  could  not  leave  Erica  at  the  mercy 
of  such  a  miscreant  as  Jerry  McCord.  I'll  protect 
her  as  if  she  were  my  own  sister.  I  hated  the  idea 
of  having  near  neighbors  until  this  very  hour,  but 
I'm  glad  of  it  now.  Women  coming  as  well  as 
men,  and  it's  better  for  her, — better  for  me.  I'll 
sell  out  and  run  away  as  soon  as  I  can  after  things 
are  safe." 

He  was  evidently  excited  about  something,  and 
his  glances  after  the  retreating  horsemen  followed 
them  till  they  disappeared  under  the  trees. 

A  quick  ear  could  have  detected  curious  modu- 
lations and  intonations  in  the  deep  voice.  There 
was  a  sort  of  music  here  and  there,  and  something 
of  exactness  in  pronunciation  not  common  among 
prairie  settlers.  The  moment  Jerry  and  his  Paw- 


120  RED   BEAUTY. 

nees  were  out  of  sight,  lie  turned  and  walked  rap- 
idly away  towards  the  house,  with  a  springy,  elastic 
step  which  spoke  well  for  his  health  and  for  the 
generally  good  condition  of  his  muscles. 

Had  his  eyes  heen  even  more  piercing  than  they 
seemed,  they  could  not  have  told  him  what  was 
going  on  heyond  the  line  of  forest.  The  four  men 
who  had  ridden  past  him  were  halted  among  the 
shadows  and  were  discussing  both  him  and  the  best 
way  of  dealing  with  him. 

The  faces  of  the  three  Pawnees  were  all  uncom- 
monly bad,  but  not  one  among  them  seemed  at  that 
moment  to  express  so  much  evil  as  did  that  of  their 
white  associate  and  leader.  Every  line  and  wrinkle 
of  it  had  deepened  and  every  vein  and  corrugation 
stood  out,  under  the  pressure  of  the  strong  wicked- 
ness within  him,  in  a  manner  which  made  the  read- 
ing of  it  as  plain  as  print.  He  spoke  rapidly  and 
stormily,  and  when  he  had  finished  there  was  silence 
for  a  moment.  Then  one  of  the  Pawnees  pointed 
back  along  the  Trail  and  said, — 

"Ugh!  know  Chumley.  Shoot  quick,  straight. 
No  touch  him  now.  Kill  him  behind  tree,  some 
day.  "Wait.  Day  come,  sure." 

"  Ugh !"  went  around  from  lip  to  lip  of  the  trio, 
with  words  which  indicated  that  Chumley  had 
somehow  acquired  a  name  for  skill  and  promptness 
in  the  use  of  weapons. 

Jerry's  turn  to  speak  again  came  to  him. 


CHUMLEFS  POST.  121 

"  You  are  right  about  it.  No  hurry.  But  we 
will  fetch  Chumley  yet,"  he  said,  with  a  freezing 
smile.  "  What  you  and  I  want  is  horses.  We  can 
wait  till  the  new  settlers  are  all  there.  No  use  in 
doing  anything  that  will  put  them  on  their  guard." 

"  Chumley  do  that,"  said  an  Indian. 

"  Maybe  not.  Maybe  they  won't  believe  him  in 
a  hurry.  It's  a  good  while  since  we've  done  any 
business  near  here.  You  ride  on  now,  and  I'll 
take  a  scout  around.  I  want  to  see  that  outfit  go 
into  camp." 

"Ugh!"  went  the  rounds,  but  other  comments 
were  few  and  brief,  and  the  Pawnees  rode  onward, 
leaving  Jerry  McCord  alone  to  take  his  further  ob- 
servations and  develop  more  perfectly  such  plans 
as  his  love  of  other  men's  horses  and  the  divided 
nature  of  his  admiration  for  women  might  require. 
He  at  once  rode  in  among  the  trees  and  dismounted. 


11 


122  RED  BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER   XIIL 

THE  RED  BEAUTY. 

THE  gathering  under  the  oaks  by  the  spring  was 
entirely  a  family  party.  Even  the  parrot  gained 
extra  crumbs,  while  watching  the  other  eaters,  by 
loudly  announcing  himself  as  "  Polly  Munro,"  while 
Bob  Munro,  out  on  the  prairie,  was  now  and  then 
compelled  to  transfer  his  bone  from  place  to  place 
as  his  cows  and  oxen  fed  away  from  him. 

It  was  plain  that  a  large  amount  of  enthusiasm 
was  kindling  over  the  fact  that  their  new  "  land" 
was  so  near  them.  Judging  from  all  that  they  had 
seen,  it  must  be  good  land,  and  it  had  been  painted 
to  them  as  a  square  mile  of  Eden. 

They  were  hastily  finishing  their  meal,  with  an 
avowed  opinion  that  the  horses  and  cattle  had  eaten 
and  rested  sufficiently  to  last  until  the  journey's 
end  should  be  reached,  when  they  were  startled  by 
the  sound  of  a  human  voice.  All  it  said  was  the 
one  word, — 

"How!" 

"I  declare!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Munro.  "It's  an 
Indian  !  Where  did  he  come  from  ?" 

Every  head  had  turned  instantly,  as  if  pulled  by 
the  same  wire,  and  all  saw  that  she  was  correct.  Be- 


THE  RED  BEAUTY.  123 

tween  the  front  wheel  and  the  tongue  of  the  nearest 
wagon, — the  parrot's, — and  much  as  if  he  had 
just  arisen  from  crawling  under  it,  stood  the  most 
undelightful-looking  person  they  had  ever  seen. 
Tangled  gray  hair  streamed  down  around  a  dark 
face  of  hideous  ugliness,  in  the  centre  of  which  an 
enormous  nose  projected  above  a  wide  mouth.  A 
red  and  black  checked  calico  shirt  was  supplemented 
by  two  pairs  of  white  man's  trousers,  a  leg  from 
each,  one  of  army  blue  and  one  of  greasy  yellow. 
Pistol  and  knife  in  belt  and  a  rifle  in  his  left  hand, 
with  an  evident  assumption  of  vagabond  dignity, 
the  stranger  held  out  his  right  hand  palm  upward, 
and  again  said  "  How." 

Red  warrior  as  he  was,  his  first  reply  seemed  so 
nearly  in  his  left  ear  that  he  turned  his  head  for 
another  piercing  squawk  from  Poll,  and  this  was 
followed  by, — 

"  Pawnee !     Pawnee !     Me-a-ow  !" 

"Devil!  Ugh!"  exclaimed  the  astonished  in- 
truder ;  but  Poll  knew  that  word  also  very  well,  and 
sent  it  back  at  him : 

"  Devil !  Hip !  Pawnee !  Devil !  Polly  Munro, 
— hurrah !" 

"  No  Pawnee.  Potawatamy."  But  at  that  point 
the  red  man  recovered  his  equilibrium  and  turned 
towards  Perry  Munro,  who  had  sprung  to  his  feet 
instantly  and  was  now  advancing.  The  others  also 
arose  and  came,  but  Perry  was  the  first  to  say 


124  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  How"  and  offer  his  hand.  Uncle  John  did  not 
stir  until  he  had  informed  himself  audibly, — 

"  It  is  our  best  policy  to  cultivate  friendly  rela- 
tions with  the  savages." 

At  that  moment  Perry  and  the  rest  were  obtain- 
ing the  information : 

"Red  Beauty  great  chief.  No  Pawnee.  Pota- 
watamy.  Friend.  Want  eat.  Want  smoke.  Very 
handsome  brave." 

Poll  turned  a  complete  somersault  on  his  swing, 
as  if  he  knew  what  it  was  that  set  Jessie's  eyes 
dancing  when  she  heard  that,  but  Perry  kept  his 
face  and  said, — 

"  All  right.  Come  and  have  a  cup  of  coffee  and 
a  pipe.  Mother,  fry  him  a  slice  of  bacon,  please. 
He's  just  the  man." 

"Glad  he  come?  How  know?  Bad  Indian. 
Kill  a  heap.  'Teal  a  horse.  'Teal  young  squaw. 
Kill  devil  in  wagon,  call  him  Pawnee." 

"  He's  an  original !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Munro. 
"John,  he's  a  character.  It  almost  looks  as  if 
there  was  fun  in  him." 

"  I  am  always  interested  in  types  and  specimens 
of  humanity,"  responded  Uncle  John,  "  but  I  never 
before  saw  such  a  bilious-looking  face." 

"Devil!  Hurrah!"  came  from  the  cage  in  the 
wagon,  but  the  Red  Beauty  gravely  seated  himself 
near  the  fire  and  waited  for  his  rasher  of  bacon, 
while  Perry  and  Mr.  Munro,  and  even  Mrs.  Munro, 


THE  RED  BEAUTY.  125 

after  a  little,  plied  him  with  questions.  He  an- 
swered with  a  voluble  use  of  English  which  told 
of  much  dealing  with  pale-faces,  hut  he  appeared 
inclined  to  take  gloomy  views  of  the  world  he  lived 
in  and  of  the  people  he  knew. 

"  Is  it  a  good  country  ?"  asked  Perry. 

"  Ugh !  Bad  land.  Grass  all  dry  up,  pretty  soon. 
Grasshopper  come.  Big  snow." 

"  Is  it  healthy  to  live  in  ?" 

"  All  shake.  Cow  die.  Young  squaw  turn  yel- 
low. Old  squaw  lose  teeth." 

"  Are  there  many  settlers  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Munro. 

"  !N"o  pale-face.  Some  come,  a  day.  Bad  w'ite 
man.  'Teal.  Lie.  Go  drunk.  Pawnee  all  around 
for  'calp.  Burn  house." 

A  smothered  squeal  and  grunt  from  Jemima's 
wagon  caught  his  quick  ears,  and  he  was  on  his 
feet  in  a  second.  Not  another  word  did  he  speak 
until  he  had  been  for  a  look  at  her  and  her  family. 
He  returned  to  say, — 

"  Ugh  !  Pawnee  'teal  'em  all." 

"  Do  you  know  a  man  named  Chumley  ?"  asked 
Mr.  Munro. 

"Ugh!  Know  him.  Yellow-heads  go  to  him 
now.  Kill  'em  all  and  take  mule.  Bad  man.  Red 
Beauty  there  a  day." 

"Is  he  so  bad  as  that?"  asked  Mrs.  Munro,  in 
some  dismay. 

"  Bad  man.    Run  away  with  young  squaw.    Take 
11* 


126  RED  BEAUTY. 

old  squaw  with  him.  Kill  'em  both.  Come  back 
and  say,  lost  'em." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Uncle  John,  positively. 
"  The  man  is  a  character.  I  don't  believe  all  the 
medicines  in  my  box  would  cure  him  of  lying. 
Keep  him  a  going,  Perry.  You  may  learn  some- 
thing." 

The  bacon  was  ready,  and  from  the  minute  of  its 
offering  until  it  was  gone  the  Red  Beauty  had  no 
words  to  throw  away,  even  when  Polly  again  called 
him  a  devil  and  a  Pawnee. 

Perry  and  his  father  went  off  to  gather  and  water 
and  yoke  the  oxen,  and  Jessie  saddled  her  own 
horse  and  her  mother's.  Red  Beauty  took  note  of 
everything  that  went  on,  but  he  made  no  comment 
until  Bob  came  in  from  guarding  the  cattle  and 
walked  up  to  smell  of  him. 

"  Big  dog,  ugh !"  he  remarked.  "  Snow  come,  Mil 
him  then.  Good  eat  Better  than  fat  hog.  Red 
Beauty  want  to  be  there  when  squaw  cook  dog. 
Eat  a  heap !" 

Peals  of  laughter  answered  him,  but  Bob  had 
made  his  investigation  and  he  now  gravely  held  up 
a  paw.  The  Indian  as  gravely  took  it,  but  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face  changed. 

"  Dog  know  heap,"  he  said,  gruffly.  "  Red 
Beauty  good  Indian  all  time  now.  .Not  lie  any 
more.  Talk  straight.  Go  get  pony.  Ride  along. 
Tell  about  Pawnee." 


THE  RED   BEAUTY.  127 

He  walked  away  quickly,  accompanied  somewhat 
watchfully  by  Bob,  and  returned  in  a  few  moments 
upon  the  blanketed  but  unsaddled  back  of  a  ser- 
viceable-looking mustang.  He  had  evidently  hid- 
den him  at  the  western  edge  of  the  grove  that  he 
might  creep  in  undiscovered. 

While  he  was  gone  for  the  pony  it  had  been 
thoughtfully  remarked  by  Jessie, — 

"  Mother,  that's  what  we've  read  about.  He  came 
in  like  a  snake.  He  might  have  killed  us  all." 

"  Bob  was  away,  my  dear,  and  the  rest  of  us  are 
not  good  watch-dogs,  especially  in  the  daytime." 

"  Anyhow,  they  said  all  the  Indians  were  gone 
away  and  the  country  was  peaceable,  and  now  this 
old  Indian  tells  us " 

"  Tells  us  lies,  Jessie,"  said  Uncle  John,  peering 
into  her  face  through  the  blue  goggles  with  which 
he  had  replaced  his  green  ones.  "  The  old  fellow  is 
a  character.  He  can  He  as  fast  as  a  horse  can  trot. 
The  agent  told  us  there  were  no  bad  neighbors." 

It  was  not  long,  now,  before  they  were  all  on  the 
trail  again,  and  for  once  the  ox-teams  had  drivers 
who  seemed  inclined  to  push  them.  The  train  had 
just  one  more  odd  feature,  for  the  Red  Beauty 
seemed  disposed  to  linger  in  the  rear  and  devote 
himself  to  the  two  white  squaws.  He  declared  him- 
self bound  to  tell  them  the  truth,  as  he  had  become 
their  "  friend."  No  doubt  he  made  an  effort,  but 
if  all  that  he  told  them  was  true,  especially  about 


128  RED  BEAUTY. 

himself,  Jessie's  remark  to  him  was  only  a  faint 
expression  : 

"  You  are  the  most  wonderful  Indian  I  ever  met." 

"  Great  white  chief  at  fort  gave  name.  Said 
Red  Beauty  to  him.  Handsome  brave.  Had  nine 
squaw." 

"What  became  of  them?"  asked  Mrs.  Munro, 
unwisely. 

"  Some  die.  Some  run  away.  Trade  some  for 
pony.  Only  got  two  now.  Buy  another  some  day. 
How  much  take  for  her  ?" 

Jessie  gave  her  horse  a  sudden  fillip  and  dashed 
away  towards  the  front,  bowing  her  face  to  his  very 
mane  in  crimsoned  merriment  and  disgust  over  hei 
first  direct  "  proposal,"  but  Mrs.  Munro  replied,  — 

"  Hundred  ponies,  big  wagon,  much  pig,  blan- 


"  Ugh  !  So.  Cost  a  heap.  Red  Beauty  want  a 
one-pony  squaw." 

"  I  guess  so,"  said  Jessie's  mother,  but  her  father 
and  brother  and  uncle  heard  the  story  quickly  and 
the  fan  of  it  lasted  for  a  full  mile. 

The  distant  line  of  forest  drew  nearer,  and  still 
the  green  undulations  of  the  grassy  plain  promised 
fertile  farming  land,  and  the  groves  and  clumps  of 
bushes  occurred  more  frequently.  At  last  the  wind 
from  the  west  brought  back  a  great  shout  from 
Perry,  who  had  ridden  ahead,  and  then  they  could 
distinguish  the  words  which  eagerly  followed  it  : 


THE  RED  BEAUTY.  129 

"  Chumley's  Post !    Here  we  are !" 

The  cattle  had  to  pull  now,  and  the  Red  Beauty 
galloped  on  to  the  landmark  reached  by  Perry, 
followed  by  Jessie  and  her  mother.  Bob  was  there 
already,  pawing  among  the  old  bones  as  if  he  meant 
to  discover  why  all  the  human  members  of  his 
family  should  stare  so  at  that  lonely  stick  of  hickory. 

It  marked,  as  the  Munros  had  been  informed,  the 
corner  of  Mr.  Chumley's  land.  The  Pawnee  Trail 
followed  the  dividing  line  pretty  nearly,  and  all  the 
prairie  to  the  right,  as  they  stood,  was  their  own. 

"I  am  satisfied,"  said  Uncle  John.  "I  knew 
from  the  face  of  that  agent  that  he  was  telling  me 
the  truth." 

"  I  must  say,"  remarked  Mrs.  Munro,  "  that  for 
this  once  you  may  have  been  right.  There  is  a 
great  load  off  my  mind." 

She  had  drawn  a  very  long  breath  and  she  felt 
better,  visibly,  but  at  that  moment  a  voice  from  the 
wagon  behind  her  shouted, — 

"  Pawnee !  Devil !  Polly  Munro !  Hurrah !  Me- 
a-ow !  Pawnee !" 

"  Off  to  the  right,  father,"  said  Perry,  excitedly. 
"  You  follow  with  the  teams  and  I'll  gallop  ahead 
and  pick  out  a  spot  to  camp  on." 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Perry,"  exclaimed  his  mother. 
"  Somebody's  coming.  That  must  be  Chumley's 
house." 

"  Him  come,"  said  the  Red  Beauty. 


130  RED  BEAUTY. 

So  it  was,  but  he  did  not  come  on  any  pony. 
Not  a  horse  owned  by  the  Munro  family  could 
compare  with  the  splendid  thoroughbred  which 
came  bounding  towards  them  bearing  a  horseman 
whose  very  seat  in  the  saddle  was  something 
pleasant  to  look  at. 

"  He  rides  well,"  said  Jessie,  but  her  brother  re- 
plied,— 

"  Don't  I  wish  I  owned  that  horse,  though !  If 
there  were  really  any  Indians  around  here,  they'd 
have  stolen  him  long  ago." 

Perhaps,  but  now  he  brought  his  rider  close  to 
them,  and  again  they  had  a  small  surprise. 

"  Sir,"  said  he  to  Perry,  who  was  nearest,  "  and 
ladies,  Mr.  Richard  Chumley.  I  did  not  get  the 
name  of  my  new  neighbors." 

He  said  it  with  so  graceful  a  bow  that  the  same 
thought  flashed  into  every  mind  in  the  circle : 

"  Why !     He's  a  gentleman  !" 

Even  Bob  understood  it  perfectly,  being  a  gentle- 
man dog  himself,  but  Poll  squawked  fearfully  and 
said  "  devil." 

Perry  was  hardly  as  polished  as  the  new  arrival, 
but  he  did  fairly  well. 

"  My  father,  Mr.  Munro.  My  uncle,  Mr.  John 
Munro.  My  mother,  Mr.  Chumley, — my  sister.  I 
am  Perry  Munro." 

A  second  low  bow  went  to  the  ladies,  but  the 
muttered  words  on  the  iron  lips  were  not  audible. 


THE  RED  BEAUTY. 

They  were  curiously  made  up  of, — 

"What  a  splendid  girl!  Magnificent  mastiff! 
Old  red  vagabond !" 

Before  his  head  was  lifted,  the  mouth  belonging 
to  the  only  pair  of  eyes  which  had  read  his  flashing 
glance  added, — 

"Bad  man,  Chumley.  Kill  a  heap.  'Teal  a 
horse.  Eat  dog." 

Not  a  muscle  of  Chumley's  face  lost  its  com- 
posure, and  he  spoke  now  to  Mr.  Munro. 

"  I'm  glad  you  came  through  all  right.  I  know 
every  inch  of  the  land  you've  bought.  If  you  will 
let  me,  I'll  pilot  you  to  the  best  spot  on  it  for  a 
homestead.  High  ground,  trees,  and  running 
water." 

"Much  obliged  to  you.  Just  the  favor  I  was 
wishing  for,"  said  Mr.  Munro,  and  his  wife  ex- 
claimed,— 

"I'm  so  glad!  Thank  you  ever  so  much,  Mr. 
Chumley." 

"Keep  eye  on  him,"  growled  the  Red  Beauty. 
"  'Calp  squaw.  No  pig  left  pretty  soon.  All  gone 
to  Chumley  kettle." 


132  RED  BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

ON  THEIR  OWN  LAND. 

AT  the  hour  when  Red  Beauty  came  out  from 
under  the  wagon  in  the  Munro  camp,  there  were 
two  squads  of  United  States  cavalry  very  hard  at 
work.  That  is,  they  were  travelling  vigorously  in 
search  of  Jerry  McCord  and  his  vagabond  Paw- 
nees. Each  squad  was  attended  by  scouts  of  high 
reputation  and  by  trained  redskin  trailers,  whose 
ability  to  excel  any  bloodhound  in  following  human 
game  was  beyond  dispute.  Each  commanding  offi- 
cer had  excellent  reasons  for  believing  himself 
upon  the  right  track,  and  yet  they  were  more  than 
two  hundred  miles  apart.  They  could  not  both  be 
close  behind  the  same  man,  for  the  captain  was 
going  south  and  the  lieutenant  was  riding  north- 
easterly, and  was  the  more  confident  of  the  two 
that  he  was  about  to  collar  those  Pawnees  and  lead 
them  back  to  the  reservation  to  study  farming. 

"I'd  follow  them  to  the  North  Pole,"  said  the 
lieutenant,  zealously. 

"  I'd  search  the  Pawnee  Trail  for  him  from  end 
to  end,"  remarked  the  captain,  "  if  I  only  knew  he 
was  on  it.*' 


ON  THEIR   OWN  LAND.  133 

Neither  of  those  energetic  public  servants  was  to 
be  any  wiser  that  day.  They  did  such  an  amount 
of  searching,  nevertheless,  that  they  were  compelled 
to  pull  up  and  go  into  camp  at  an  early  hour,  if 
only  to  be  sure  of  having  horses  under  them  next 
day. 

During  all  that  time  the  objects  of  their  search 
were  attending  to  their  own  affairs,  in  ignorance 
that  any  special  messenger  was  coming  after  them. 
Their  dashing  leader  had  been  to  all  outward  seem- 
ing a  peaceful  and  unarmed  man  when  he  was  Mr. 
Payne  and  was  talking  with  Jessie  and  her  mother. 
At  that  time  one  of  the  Pawnee  quartette,  away  on 
the  prairie,  had  been  carrying  two  rifles.  Now 
that  man  had  but  one,  and  Jerry  himself  was  once 
more  a  rifleman. 

That  region  was  rich  in  game  of  many  kinds, 
and  it  was  no  wonder  at  all  that  the  four  red  men 
who  rode  westward  should  stir  a  buck  from  his 
covert  and  send  him  dashing  away  from  a  hasty 
shot  which  did  not  hit  him.  It  was  an  every-day 
occurrence  of  any  hunter's  life  that  the  same  buck 
should  continue  his  frightened  race  until  he  came 
out  among  the  trees  where  Jerry  McCord  had 
hitched  his  horse  and  stood  by  him  taking  inward 
counsel  as  to  his  next  best  thing  to  do. 

The  buck  stopped  suddenly  after  the  foolish 
manner  of  startled  deer,  and  Jerry's  ready  rifle 

was  at  his  shoulder  in  a  twinkling.     A  flash,  a 

12 


]34  RED  BEAUTY. 

report,  a  great  bound,  and  as  the  buck  came  down 
among  the  twigs  and  leaves,  a  new  idea  came 
brightly  into  the  mind  of  Jerry  McCord. 

"  I  can  tell  them  a  good  enough  story.  At  all 
events  I  won't  miss  a  good  chance  to  see  her  again. 
I'd  like  to  have  a  talk  with  Erica.  Jessie  must 
have  seen  that  I  am  no  common  man,  but  I  had  to 
keep  my  coat  buttoned." 

That  was  a  fact  only  mournful  because  in  con- 
cealing knife  and  pistol  a  gorgeous  gold  chain  sug- 
gesting the  elegant  watch  at  the  end  of  it  was  also 
hidden.  Personal  vanity  had  sacrificed  something 
to  prudence,  but  it  was  desirable  that  the  beautiful 
brunette  he  admired  should  understand  him  as 
belonging  to  the  high  kind  of  men  who  wear  gold 
watches. 

Jerry  lifted  the  buck  upon  his  horse  and  led  him 
away  to  a  hiding  and  hitching  place,  nearer  the 
edge  of  the  forest,  but  in  a  direction  well  away 
from  Chumley's  line.  After  that  the  course  of 
events  on  the  open  prairie  had  an  observer. 

There  was  much  going  on  there.  The  sun  was 
nearly  two  hours  high  when  Chumley  led  the 
Munro  train  away  from  the  Pawnee  Trail  and 
across  their  own  land.  He  seemed  to  be  leading 
them  in  the  direction  of  an  outreaching  curve  of 
the  line  of  trees.  Perry  and  his  father  were  dis- 
posed to  give  their  entire  time  and  industry  to  the 
ox-teams,  but  Uncle  John  and  Mrs.  Munro  and 


ON  THEIR   OWN  LAND.  135 

Jessie  rode  ahead  with  their  neighbor  and  guide. 
At  a  little  distance  behind  them  rode  the  Red 
Beauty,  and  now  and  then  his  lips  opened  in  curi- 
ous comments  upon  the  existing  state  of  affairs. 
So  did  the  hooked  beak  of  Polly  Munro,  who 
seemed,  for  some  reason,  to  be  in  a  state  of  excite 
ment  if  not  of  wrath. 

Away  in  advance  of  all  the  train  and  of  its  guide, 
with  increasing  rapidity  of  trot  or  canter,  went  the 
great  mastiff.  How  the  animal  creation  gets  its 
impressions  has  been  a  matter  of  deep  study  with 
many  acute  men.  Get  them  they  do,  and  all  the 
acute  men  have  declared  themselves  finally  puzzled 
as  to  the  methods.  The  oxen  had  tugged  the 
wagons  only  half  a  mile  before  Perry  Munro  and 
his  father  saw  Chumley  suddenly  raise  his  hand 
and  point  at  something  ahead  of  him.  They  could 
not  hear  him  say, — 

"  There,  Mrs.  Munro,  do  you  see  that  dog  ?  He 
is  waiting  for  you  on  the  very  spot  where  I  believe 
you  will  decide  to  build  your  house." 

"  How  came  he  to  select  it?"  exclaimed  Jessie. 

"  It  selects  itself,"  said  Chumley.  "  The  brook 
is  just  beyond  that  knoll,  and  there  are  trees 
enough  for  shade.  There's  open  ground  between 
that  and  the  woods,  and  that's  worth  something." 

"  How  so  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Munro. 

"  It's  of  less  consequence  now  than  it  used  to  be, 
but  when  I  built  my  house  I  took  good  care  there 


136  RED   BEAUTY. 

should  not  be  anything  very  close  to  it  that  an 
Indian  could  creep  up  under  cover  of.  You'll 
have  two  hundred  yards  of  open." 

"  I  thought  you  said  that  they  were  not  danger- 
ous any  more,"  said  Jessie. 

"  They  are  not.  White  men  like  Jerry  McCord 
are  more  dangerous  than  any  Indians." 

"  Who  is  he  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Munro. 

"  A  gentleman  who  is  quite  likely  to  call  and  see 
you.  You  must  tell  me  what  you  think  of  him 
after  he  has  done  so.  I  would  not  say  a  word 
about  him,  but  you  do  not  seem  to  have  any  horses 
to  spare.  I  shall  kill  him  some  day,  if  he  and  his 
Pawnees  do  not  kill  me  first." 

Jessie  looked  wonderingly  into  the  chilled-iron 
calmness  of  his  face  as  he  said  that,  and  all  the 
smile  faded  out  of  her  own.  She  saw  and  felt  that 
he  thoroughly  meant  what  he  said.  He  intended 
and  expected  to  kill  Jerry  McCord,  whoever  he 
might  be,  and  had  no  emotion  whatsoever  concern- 
ing the  matter.  It  was  a  new  revelation  to  a  young 
girl  from  a  quiet  Eastern  village,  and  it  was  almost 
as  much  so  to  Mrs.  Munro. 

Instantly  there  flashed  upon  their  memories  the 
remarks  made  by  the  dashing  Mr.  Payne  as  to  the 
history  and  personal  character  of  their  mysterious 
neighbor.  They  had  thought  of  them  when  he 
met  the  train,  but  his  kindly  heartiness  had  put 
them  away  until  now. 


ON  THEIR   OWN  LAND.  137 

TMs  man,  who  spoke  so  calmly  of  a  feud  between 
himself  and  other  men,  was  precisely  as  he  had  been 
represented.  Mr.  Payne  had  told  the  truth,  and 
Chumley  was  a  bad  man  to  quarrel  with.  Where 
did  he  come  from  ?  How  did  he  make  his  money, 
and  why  was  his  wife  not  living  with  him  ?  Mr. 
Payne  had  said  of  all  those  important  questions 
that  as  for  himself  he  did  not  know. 

"Woof-oof-oof!"  came  the  deep  musical  sum- 
mons of  the  mastiff  from  the  site  for  the  new 
homestead,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more  the  four 
wagons  were  wheeled  into  place.  The  oxen  were 
turned  loose,  the  horses  were  picketed,  and  then, 
for  the  first  time,  as  it  seemed,  the  men  and  women 
found  voices  and  words  to  express  themselves. 
They  had  reached  their  journey's  end.  They  were 
about  to  begin  a  new  life  in  a  new  home,  and  there 
had  been  something  silent  and  wonderful  about  it 
all.  Even  the  parrot  was  now  quiet  and  looked 
about  him  anxiously,  but  the  cat  sprang  down  and 
began  to  investigate  the  surroundings. 

The  trees  were  grand  old  oaks  and  maples,  and 
from  them  the  land  sloped  gently  to  the  border  of 
the  narrow,  deep-running  brook,  full  of  trout,  as 
Chumley  said,  and  there  was  little  left  for  a  settler 
to  ask  for. 

"  Mother,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Jessie,  "  let's  get 
out  the  pails  and  milk  the  cows.  I  shall  almost 
feel  at  home  when  we've  done  that." 

12* 


138  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  So  shall  I,"  said  her  mother.  "  Perry,  how 
about  Jemima  and  her  family  ?  There's  no  use  in 
keeping  them  in  the  wagon,  is  there  ?" 

"Not  a  bit,  I  declare!  Just  hear  her  squeal! 
Come  on,  father." 

"I'll  help,"  said  Chumley. 

"  So  will  I,"  said  Uncle  John.  "  That  sow  is  a 
character.  She  has  peculiarities  that  distinguish 
her.  I  am  fond  of  the  study  of  animals." 

It  was  easy  to  pick  up  the  little  pigs  and  land 
them  safely  on  the  grass,  but  the  removal  of  Je- 
mima was  an  undertaking.  She  felt  that  it  was  so, 
and  expressed  herself  strongly  as  her  feet  were 
tripped  from  under  her.  Yet  more  eloquent  was 
she  when  she  found  herself  dragged  to  and  sliding 
down  upon  an  inclined  plane  of  boards.  At  the 
bottom  of  it  she  lay  for  half  a  minute  and  grunted 
her  doubt  as  to  whether  she  were  really  upon  the 
earth,  but  a  glimpse  of  her  pigs  in  the  grass  aroused 
her  and  she  got  up  to  follow  them. 

"  They'll  be  a  fortune  to  you  some  day,"  said 
Chumley.  "  No  transportation  for  pork  now.  Not 
till  the  railways  come  nearer.  I've  done  nothing 
with  it." 

"  Have  you  cattle  ?"  said  Mr.  Munro. 

"  I  sold  all  but  a  few  last  winter.  I  had  then 

some  idea  of  changing  my  location "  he  paused 

and  suddenly  changed  the  subject.  "  I'll  say  one 
thing  more,  Mr.  Munro.  Eagleson,  the  Swede  that 


ON   THEIR   OWN  LAND.  139 

lives  with  me,  is  a  very  good  carpenter.  He  owns 
the  quarter-section  east  of  mine,  but  isn't  working 
it  now.  He's  a  capital  hand  with  an  axe.  You'd 
better  trade  work  with  him.  We'll  come  over  and 
help  you  get  out  your  logs  and  put  up  your  house. 
Then  you  can  help  him  with  his,  for  he's  about 
ready.  Hands  are  scarce." 

"  Done !"  said  Mr.  Munro.  "  Glad  to  do  it,"  but 
Uncle  John  pointed  at  one  of  the  wagons  and  re- 
marked,— 

"  Chumley,  do  you  see  that  ?  Something  better 
than  a  log  house." 

It  was  a  wide  wagon,  whose  axles  were  farther 
apart  than  usual,  fore  and  aft,  and  whose  tilt  was 
loftier. 

"  How  so  ?"  asked  Chumley. 

"  There's  a  house  in  it,  all  ready  to  put  up.  Doors, 
windows,  roof,  everything.  It's  a  patent." 

"  Kind  of  shell,"  said  Chumley.  "  I've  heard  of 
'em.  They're  first  rate  till  there  comes  a  wind." 

"  What  then  ?"  said  Uncle  John. 

"  What  then  ?  Why,  if  it's  a  wind  such  as  we 
have  here  sometimes,  there  goes  your  house." 

"  Fifteen  feet  by  twelve,"  said  Uncle  John,  per- 
sistently, "  and  a  perfect  house  for  the  size  of  it, 
but  of  course  there  will  have  to  be  a  strong  under- 
pinning. We  can  put  it  up  in  one  day,  if  we  all 
take  hold." 

"  Something  in  that,"  said  Chumley ;  "  but  give 


140  RED   BEAUTY. 

me  logs.     Will  you  come  over  to  my  house  to 
supper  ?" 

That  was  addressed  to  Mrs.  Munro,  and  she  hesi- 
tated a  little  before  she  replied, — 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Chumley,  but  I  am  all  in  u 
fever.  We've  everything  to  look  out  for.  We'd 
better  put  up  our  tents  and  take  supper  here." 

"  That's  so,  mother,"  said  Perry.  "  Why,  Mr. 
Chumley,  I  don't  want  any  sleep  to-night.  I  just 
want  to  unload.  The  lumber  must  be  out  of  that 
wagon." 

Chumley  bowed  politely,  but  his  iron  mouth  did 
not  smile.  He  said, — 

"  All  right.  Then  I'll  ride  home,  but  we'll  all 
be  over  in  the  morning." 

He  added  a  sharp,  peculiar  whistle,  and  his  horse, 
which  had  for  some  minutes  been  wandering  around 
loose,  making  acquaintance  with  the  Munro  horses 
and  with  Bob,  came  obediently  up  to  be  mounted. 
His  rider  sprang  into  the  saddle  amid  a  rain  of  ac- 
knowledgments of  his  kindness  and  good  judgment 
iu  selecting  that  spot  for  his  new  neighbors,  but  he 
rode  away  without  any  more  remarks.  Hardly  was 
he  out  of  hearing  before  Uncle  John  took  off  his 
hat  and  said,  as  if  addressing  the  entire  party, — 

"  Now,  that  man  is  a  character.  There  is  some- 
thing about  him  very  unusual.  You  can  see  it  in 
his  face,  and  I'm  glad  we  are  to  have  him  for  a 
neighbor.  Just  look  at  that  cat !" 


ON  THEIR   OWN  LAND. 

It  was  only  a  change  of  subject  from  one  remark- 
able person  to  another,  for  Tom  had  captured  a 
very  young  prairie-chicken  and  was  returning  to 
camp  with  his  game.  There  was  enough  of  fresh 
meat  on  that  bird  for  his  own  supper,  and  his  human 
associates  were  to  be  provided  in  a  most  unlooked- 
for  way. 

The  Red  Beauty  had  been  a  silent  Indian  from 
the  moment  when  the  wagons  halted.  He  had  dis- 
mounted from  his  pony  and  had  fastened  him  to  a 
wheel,  and  then  it  was  as  if  he  had  undertaken  to 
stare  through  the  canvas  tilts,  one  after  another. 
The  wagon  with  the  house  in  it  was  open  at  both 
ends,  and  its  contents  had  fascination  in  them.  Of 
all  the  loads  ever  brought  by  any  train  of  immi- 
grants, that  was  the  most  mysterious  to  the  eyes  of 
the  old  Potawatamy.  Never  before  had  he  seen  a 
patent  house,  packed  up  for  transportation,  and  his 
lingering  around  it  had  peculiar  consequences. 

Chumley  disappeared  beyond  the  rolls  of  the 
prairie.  Mrs.  Munro  was  busy  around  her  fire  and 
Jessie  with  her  milk-pails,  while  even  Uncle  John 
pulled  Jemima's  trough  out  of  the  wagon  and  car- 
ried it  carefully  to  the  place  where  she  was  rooting. 
She  had  not  had  her  nose  in  the  earth  for  days 
and  days,  and  she  worked  as  if  determined  to  know 
what  was  hidden  under  all  that  grass. 

"Father,"  said  Perry,  suddenly,  "look  yonder. 
Somebody's  coming." 


142  RED  BEAUTY. 

"I  declare!  It's  Payne.  How  did  he  get  so 
close  in  on  us  without  heing  seen  by  anybody  ?" 

The  coming  man  had  been  seen,  but  not  by  any 
member  of  the  Munro  family.  For  some  reason  or 
other,  Red  Beauty  had  been  for  several  minutes 
entirely  hidden  behind  the  wagon  which  contained 
the  object  of  his  curiosity. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Payne,"  said  Jessie  in  her  turn,  and 
she  had  more  than  one  echo.  He  carried  before 
him  upon  his  horse  the  carcass  of  the  buck  which 
had  come  to  him  to  be  shot. 

Under  cover  of  the  trees  he  had  watched  the  ar- 
rival of  the  "  outfit,"  and  the  departure  of  Chumley 
had  removed  any  obstacle  there  might  be  in  the 
way  of  his  accepting  the  invitation  given  him  to 
call. 

Red  Beauty  cowered  yet  more  closely  behind  the 
wagon  as  the  now  smiling  adventurer  rode  in,  and 
he  listened  gravely  to  every  word  of  the  salutations 
exchanged  and  the  explanations  given. 

Payne  had  met  a  couple  of  his  neighbors  who 
were  hunting  among  those  hills.  It  was  his  inten- 
tion to  camp  with  them  that  very  night,  instead  of 
pushing  on  homeward.  They  were  in  no  need  of 
the  buck  he  had  chanced  to  kill,  and  its  only  chance 
for  being  eaten  was  with  and  by  the  Munro  family. 
Nothing  could  exceed  the  frank,  free-hearted  neigh- 
borly kindness  with  which  he  pressed  upon  them 
the  gift  he  had  ridden  back  to  bring. 


ON  THEIR   OWN  LAND.  143 

Mrs.  Munro,  in  accepting  it  with  thanks,  was 
compelled  to  receive  the  bearer  to  an  apparently 
better  acquaintance,  and  it  looked  as  if  Jerry 
McCord  were  progressing  finely. 

Jessie  was  admiring  the  general  appearance  of 
the  buck  as  it  lay  upon  the  grass,  and  Perry  was 
talking  about  game  with  the  man  who  brought  it, 
when  a  croaking  voice  at  the  elbow  of  the  latter 
astonished  him  with, — 

"  How !     Red  Beauty  good  friend.'* 

Jessie  Munro  had  glanced  at  the  stranger's  face 
at  that  moment,  and  Uncle  John  and  her  brother 
had  been  looking  straight  at  him.  They  all  saw  a 
remarkable  expression  shoot  swiftly  across  it.  Some- 
thing it  was  of  a  surprised  and  startled  whiteness, 
and  yet  demon-like,  that  was  followed  by  a  forced 
and  very  imperfect  smile. 

"  How !"  he  said.     "  You  here  ?" 

"  Good  Indian.  Love  Payne.  Know  Payne  very 
well.  Good  man.  Give  Bed  Beauty  a  dollar." 

With  a  laugh  that  rang  somewhat  hollow,  the 
handsome  hunter  pulled  some  pieces  of  silver  from 
his  pocket  and  handed  them  to  the  queer  collector, 
who  at  once  added, — 

"  Chumley  gone  home  now.  Come  back  right 
away.  Chumley  love  Payne.  Give  him  big  present 
first  time  see  him.  Chumley  got  two  young  squaw 
now.  Give  one  to  Payne." 

He  pointed  at  Jessie  as  he  spoke,  and  the  expres- 


144  RED  BEAUTY. 

sion  of  her  face  did  not  indicate  that  she  loved  the 
Red  Beauty. 

"I  shall  have  to  decline  your  hospitality,  Mrs. 
Munro,"  said  Payne,  turning  towards  his  horse 
"  It  won't  do  for  me  to  lose  myself  in  the  woods  in 
the  dark.  The  Red  Beauty  is  an  acquaintance  of 
mine." 

"  He  is  a  character,"  interjected  Uncle  John.  "I 
am  deeply  interested  in  him." 

"  Good  Indian,"  said  the  character.  "  See  Chum- 
ley  when  he  come.  Tell  him  Payne  been  here  to 
see  young  squaw.  Think  she  like  him." 

"I  hope  she  will,"  laughed  Payne.  "Never 
mind  his  tongue,  Miss  Munro.  Nobody  can  stop 
him.  I  hope  to  see  you  all  again  some  day,  but 
it's  time  for  me  to  be  off.  Red  Beauty,  ride  with 
me  as  far  as  the  woods.  I'll  give  you  something." 

"Red  Beauty  good  company.  Want  another 
dollar.  Good  Indian.  Never  lie.  Go  right  along." 

So  he  did,  and  the  two  were  hardly  out  of  hear- 
ing before  Uncle  John  drew  a  long  breath  and 
said, — 

"  I  am  very  much  mistaken  if  Mr.  Payne  himself 
is  not  a  character.  His  face  is  remarkable." 

It  was  just  about  then  that  the  Red  Beauty  turned 
on  his  pony  to  say  to  his  companion, — 

"  How  Pawnee  ?    All  right  ?" 

"  All  safe.  You  take  care  of  your  mouth  when 
you  go  back,  if  you  know  what's  good  for  yourself." 


ON  THEIR   OWN  LAND.  145 

"  Red  Beauty  good  Indian.  Know  a  heap.  Lie 
straight  for  white  Pawnee.  Look  out  Chumley. 
Shoot  quick.  Bound  to  kill  Jerry  McCord." 

"  He  may — Well,  I  won't  say  anything  just  now. 
You  look  out  for  yourself,  that's  all." 

He  spurred  his  horse  to  a  gallop  and  disappeared 
among  the  trees  along  the  trail,  but  it  was  evident 
that  Chumley's  declaration  of  intention  concerning 
him  had  reached  the  ears  of  the  old  Indian.  He 
was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  remarked,  as  if 
to  the  vanished  leader  of  the  loose  Pawnees, — 

"  Ugh !  Red  Beauty  know  heap.  Know  Jerry. 
Know  Pawnee.  Blue-coat  come  for  'em  some  day. 
Jerry  better  keep  away  from  Chumley.  Put  him 
in  a  hole  and  cover  him  up.  White  Pawnee ! 
Ugh!" 

There  was  deep  disgust  in  that  last  ejaculation. 


13 


146  RED   BEAUTY. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

A  BUSY  EVENING. 

THERE  were  three  entirely  distinct  sets  of  very 
busy  minds  that  evening  within  short  walking 
distance  of  Chumley's  Post. 

The  first  set  included  the  entire  Munro  family. 
They  had  venison  for  supper,  thanks  to  their  new 
friend,  and  Red  Beauty  came  back  to  get  a  share 
of  it.  He  ate  remarkably  for  a  human  being  of 
his  size,  and  he  ate  in  dignified  silence  until  Perry 
Munro  asked  him,  twice, — 

"  What  sort  of  a  fellow  is  this  man  Payne  ?  You 
seem  to  know  him." 

"  Payne  very  good  man.  Pray  a  heap.  Preach 
some.  Give  Red  Beauty  dollar.  Say  young  squaw 
handsome.  Say  he  come  back  'teal  her  some  day. 
Say  boy  green.  Know  more  when  learn  some- 
thing." 

The  laugh  was  a  little  against  Perry  this  time, 
but  he  persisted : 

"  Where  did  you  meet  him  before  ?" 

"  Boy  ask  too  many  question.  Red  Beauty  not 
know  so  much  as  that.  Good  old  Indian.  Great 
chief.  No  tell  lie.  Sure  lie  if  talk." 


A   BUSY  EVENING.  147 

u  I  guess  he's  right  there,"  said  Mrs.  Munro.  "  I 
don't  believe  we've  heard  him  speak  the  truth  yet." 

"Just  so,"  said  Uncle  John.  "I  don't  believe 
he  can.  He  is  a  character,  and  I'm  interested  in 
him." 

They  gave  up  questioning  the  old  Indian,  but  the 
supper  was  finished  rapidly.  One  "  army  tent"  was 
already  up,  and  another  quickly  followed.  The 
moment  the  last  peg  was  driven,  Uncle  John 
came  back  from  Poll's  wagon  shouting, — 

"  Hold  on  a  moment." 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  Perry. 

"  Here !  Before  you  do  anything  else.  The  first 
thing  to  be  done  on  settling  in  a  new  country  like 
this  is  to  take  a  dose  of  quinine.  Five  pills  of  two 
grains  each  will  do.  Say  ten  grains,  or  twelve. 
You'd  better  take  blue  pill  with  it,  and  a  table- 
spoonful  of  McQuinzy's  Blood  Restorer  and " 

"Not  a  pill  for  me,"  said  Perry,  with  energy. 
"  You  may  eat  them  all." 

"I  do  not  need  them,"  said  Uncle  John.  "I 
have  been  doctoring  myself  faithfully  all  the  way. 
You'll  all  be  sorry  if  you  do  not  take  precautions." 

"Red  Beauty  take  'em.  Drink  anything  got. 
Good  Indian." 

He  was  the  only  mortal  in  that  camp  with  whom 
Uncle  John  succeeded,  and  even  he  held  back  until 
the  precise  dose  he  wanted  was  measured  out. 

The  eager  "  doctor"  remarked,  as  he  did  so, — 


148  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  I  am  a  temperance  man,  and  it's  against  the  law 
to  give  whiskey  to  Indians ;  but  in  a  case  like  this 
and  as  a  medical  prescription " 

He  stopped  there,  and  neither  he  nor  anybody 
else  knew  precisely  what  went  down  the  old  Pota- 
watamy's  hardened  throat  with  that  glass  of  liquor. 
The  rest  of  the  party  paused  a  moment  to  see  it 
done,  and  Perry  remarked, — 

"  Jessie,  I  think  that  knoll  yonder  by  the  brook 
would  be  a  good  place." 

"For  the  house?  Oh,  no!  Right  in  there 
among  the  trees " 

"  No,  not  for  the  house.  I  mean  a  place  to  bury 
the  old  Indian.  Uncle  John's  got  him." 

So  it  seemed,  but  there  was  a  mistake  somewhere. 
Uncle  John  had  seen  the  Red  Beauty  swallow,  with 
sincerity  and  simplicity,  and  yet,  not  many  minutes 
later,  the  dosed  savage  was  holding  out  to  Bob  a 
hand  with  many  pills  on  its  palm. 

"  Take  'em.   No  kill  dog.   Make  him  feel  good." 

The  mastiff  held  out  his  great  paw  in  a  way  that 
scattered  the  pills  in  the  grass,  but  turned  away  his 
head  as  he  did  so. 

"Dog  know.  Red  Beauty  safe,  anyhow.  Got 
whiskey." 

The  liquid  medicines  he  had  actually  swallowed, 
whatever  they  might  be,  but  he  had  escaped  the 
quinine  and  mercury  and  iron  and  the  like  with 
the  sleight  of  hand  of  a  conjurer. 


A    BUSY  EVENING.  149 

Two  hours  of  toiling  at  the  wagons  followed, 
and  the  grass  was  strewn  with  lumber  and  other 
matters,  but  Mrs.  Munro  declared  that  it  was  time 
to  get  some  sleep.  It  was  settled  that  Perry  should 
sit  up  and  watch  for  the  first  half  of  the  night, 
although  Bob's  presence  seemed  to  render  it  need- 
less, and  the  rest  were  soon  under  cover  of  the 
tents.  The  Red  Beauty  curled  up  on  his  blanket 
at  some  distance  from  the  camp-fire,  where  Perry, 
with  a  rifle  across  his  lap,  sat  still  and  dreamed 
waking  dreams  of  the  future  before  him  in  that 
part  of  the  "  Far  "West"  land  of  American  promise. 
Before  doing  so  he  had  made  a  careful  round  of  the 
camp  and  the  cattle,  and  he  meant  to  make  another 
in  due  season,  but  his  dreams  got  the  better  of 
him.  He  saw,  as  he  went  on  among  them,  a 
stately  mansion  arise  among  those  trees,  with  a 
stone  bridge  over  the  brook  and  a  telescope 
mounted  on  the  roof,  and  the  entire  section  under 
cultivation,  and  a  herd  of  prize  cattle,  and  a  new 
town  only  a  few  miles  away.  He  was  just  begin- 
ning to  think  of  the  speeches  he  would  make 
when  the  time  should  come  for  him  to  run  as  a 
candidate  for  Congress,  when  he  was  called  back 
to  the  present  time  and  the  bare  prairie  by  a  warn- 
ing growl  from  his  faithful  Bob.  He  sprang  to  his 
feet,  rifle  in  hand,  but  Bob  was  away  in  the  dark 
there  somewhere,  calling  for  him  with  yet  another 
growl. 

13* 


150  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Something's  up !"  lie  exclaimed,  as  lie  hurried 
forward,  and  so  it  was. 

The  Eed  Beauty  was  up  and  was  standing  still, 
ahout  ten  feet  from  his  own  pony,  with  Bob  posted 
between  the  two,  as  if  he  did  not  propose  to  let  that 
redskin  leave  the  camp  unceremoniously. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  asked  Perry. 

"  Woof-oof-oof,"  said  Bob. 

"Want  pony,"  said  the  Red  Beauty.  "Dog 
devil.  Say  no !  Ugh !" 

"  Take  your  pony,  if  you're  going,"  said  Perry. 
"  Be  still,  Bob.  What's  your  hurry  ?" 

"  Medicine  feel  bad.  Good  Indian,  Red  Beauty. 
No  take  any  more.  Boy  keep  dog  ?" 

"He  won't  hurt  you,  now  I'm  here.  Shake 
hands.  Friend  ?" 

"  Good  friend,"  said  the  old  vagabond,  offering 
his  hand.  "  Boy  hold  tongue  if  know  something  ? 
Shut  mouth  ?" 

"  Never  say  a  word,"  said  Perry. 

"When  Payne  come  again,  boy  say  to  him 
'Payne!'  When  boy  think  of  him,  think  'Jerry 
McCord  'teal  horse.'  He  shoot  Red  Beauty  for  say 
that.  Bad  man,  White  Pawnee.  Take  'calp." 

There  was  an  intensity  of  meaning  in  the  old 
Indian's  face  that  almost  convinced  Perry  he  was 
telling  the  truth.  At  all  events  he  saw  no  reason 
why  his  red  visitor  should  not  mount  his  own  pony 
and  ride  away.  Bob  felt  differently  about  it.  Red 


A   BUSY  EVENING.  151 

Beauty  was  wrapped  in  his  blanket,  and  evidently 
meant  to  ride  barebacked,  without  strapping  it  in 
its  usual  place  as  a  saddle.  Bob  was  yet  closer  to 
him  as  he  now  stepped  forward,  and  made  a  sudden 
rush,  just  as  the  great  and  good  and  truthful  Pota- 
watamy  lifted  the  hand  that  held  his  rifle  and  took 
in  the  other  the  bridle,  ready  to  mount. 

Red  Beauty  was  instantly  on  the  back  of  his 
pony,  but  Bob  held  in  his  mouth  the  folded  ends 
of  a  blanket  which  had  travelled  for  many  days 
with  the  Munro  wagons. 

"  Ugh !     Where  dog  get  blanket  ?" 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Perry.  "  I  rather  expected 
you'd  try  to  steal  something.  Come  again,  any 
time.  Bob  and  Pll  watch  you." 

"  Good  Indian,"  replied  Red  Beauty.  "  Dog 
'teal  blanket.  Tell  Medicine  John  for  old  chief, 
he  come  again.  Eat  pill.  Whiskey  make  him 
sick." 

The  pony  bore  him  away  into  the  darkness,  and 
Perry  Munro  felt  that  all  the  blankets  in  camp 
were  safer.  At  all  events  there  came  no  further 
disturbance  until  about  sunrise  the  next  morning. 

All  the  minds  there  were  less  busy  than  they 
had  been,  but  none  of  them  guessed  what  had  been 
working  in  that  of  the  man  to  whom  they  were 
indebted  for  their  venison  supper. 

Before  parting  from  Red  Beauty,  Jerry  McCord 
had  heard  whatever  that  worthy  chose  to  tell  him 


152  RED  BEAUTY. 

of  the  Munro  family  and  of  their  visit  from  Chum- 
ley.  Much  of  it  was  reasonably  near  the  truth, 
and  the  "  "White  Pawnee"  was  plainly  unaware  of 
the  old  Potawatamy's  real  feeling  towards  himself 
and  his  associates.  He  was  keenly  aware,  however, 
that  a  great  and  very  sudden  change  had  come  over 
his  own  feelings  in  one  important  particular. 

It  is  said  that  if  a  wolf  is  following  one  sheep 
and  comes  across  the  fresher  trail  of  another,  he 
will  leave  the  first  and  follow  the  second.  Up  to 
the  hour  when  Jerry  joined  the  Munro  train  that 
day,  he  had  believed  himself  madly  in  love  with 
Erica  Eagleson,  and  he  now  declared  that  such  was 
still  the  case,  and  that  he  meant  to  risk  all  sorts 
of  things  for  a  chance  to  tell  her  so  once  more. 

Now,  however,  and  in  spite  of  all  his  romantic 
passion  for  the  singer  who  had  charmed  him  in  the 
forest,  he  suddenly  drew  his  rein  and  halted  on  the 
Pawnee  Trail  to  exclaim, — 

"  Jessie  Munro  ?  She  is  the  most  lovely  being  I 
ever  saw !  What  glorious  dark  hair !  What  mag- 
nificent black  eyes !  If  that  old  Potawatamy  tells 
them  any  nonsense  about  me,  I'll  shoot  the  top  of 
his  head  off." 

His  dark  face  was  flushed  and  his  eyes  were 
dancing  with  fierce,  vindictive  flashes.  He  hurled 
hard  words  at  Chumley  and  at  all  the  world  whose 
self-protecting  ways  interfered  between  him  and 
the  utter  freedom  of  his  miserable  will.  There 


A   BUSY  EVENING.  153 

was  no  doubt  but  what,  as  Red  Beauty  might  have 
expressed  it,  he  was  ready  to  "  'teal"  either  or  both 
of  those  remarkable  young  white  squaws  and  run 
away  with  them.  It  was  a  case  of  "  character" 
study  for  Uncle  John,  or  rather  it  was  a  case  of 
fickle  selfishness  every  way  worthy  of  a  "  White 
Pawnee." 

It  was  too  late  for  any  more  courting  of  any 
sort  to  be  done  that  evening,  and  Jerry  rode  on 
westward,  full  of  thought. 

Chumley  himself  rode  homeward  from  the  Munro 
camp  with  an  uncommonly  busy  mind.  The  horse 
under  him  was  compelled  to  travel  slowly,  in  spite 
of  repeated  lashings  out  and  efforts  at  a  dash  for- 
ward. His  rider  curbed  him  with  a  strength  and 
skill  which  had  not  been  unnoticed  by  the  new 
acquaintances  he  had  just  parted  from.  His  face 
wore  several  times  an  expression  of  even  savage 
determination. 

"Kill  him!"  he  said  between  his  set  teeth. 
"  "Well,  he  must  keep  away  from  Erica.  Am  I  in 
love  with  her?  No,  but  he  shall  not  have  her. 
With  me  ?  No,  I'm  not  conceited  enough  for  that. 
I  hated  all  women,  and  yet  here  they  are, — here  I 
am.  I  cannot  help  myself,  but  what  a  remarkable 
resemblance  it  is.  The  same  hair,  eyes,  features, 
alike  in  all  but  the  expression.  Ah,  my  lady,  she's 
as  beautiful  as  ever  you  were,  and  I  don't  believe 
she's  as  hollow-hearted.  She's  as  fresh  as  a  rose, 


154  RED  BEAUTY. 

and  she  was  never  spoiled  by  society,  confound  it 
Look  here,  my  boy,  what's  got  into  you  ?" 

The  last  inquiring  remark  of  Chumley  was  ad- 
dressed to  his  own  inner  man,  but  his  horse  seemed 
to  believe  himself  spoken  to.  He  threw  up  his 
heels  with  a  sharp  whinny,  and  his  forward  bound 
was  unchecked.  Very  few  minutes  of  that  rate  of 
speed  were  required  to  "bring  the  rider  to  the  gate 
of  the  enclosure  which  contained  his  house.  The 
gate  was  shut,  but  there  was  no  waiting  for  some- 
hody  to  open  it.  Chumley's  thoroughbred  went 
over  it  without  touching,  and  the  feat  was  so  well 
performed  as  to  draw  forth  exclamations  of  admira- 
tion from  three  pairs  of  lips.  It  was  worthy  of 
note  that  the  comments  of  Gustav  Eagleson  and  his 
wife,  though  made  with  fair  correctness,  were 
marked  with  a  strong  accent,  while  the  few  words 
uttered  by  Erica  were  good,  crisp  English.  Four 
years,  even  in  that  sort  of  frontier  schooling,  had 
done  wonders  for  her. 

If  Chumley  had  been  to  any  extent  her  instructor 
or  not,  she  seemed  to  stand  in  some  awe  of  him. 
She  at  once  went  back  into  the  house  and  busied 
herself  around  a  neat  and  well-set  supper-table, 
carrying  with  her  a  peculiar  air  of  trying  not  to 
sing  and  of  doing  many  things  mainly  as  a  means 
of  suppressing  the  exuberant  music  in  her. 

Chumley  dismounted  in  front  of  the  house,  and 
his  horse,  like  a  dog,  followed  him  around  the  cor- 


A   BUSY  EVENING.  155 

ner  of  it  to  the  right.  A  one-story  structure  of  ex- 
cellent log-work  was  that  house,  and  it  occupied 
three  sides  of  a  hollow  square.  In  the  middle  front 
was  the  large  room  where  Erica  was  smiling  around 
the  supper-table.  To  the  left  of  this  were  two  bed- 
rooms, and  back  of  them  was  a  kitchen.  To  the 
right  of  it  was  another  bedroom,  and  back  of  this 
the  side  of  the  square  was  lengthened  unduly,  for 
there  were  the  stables  of  Chumley's  horses. 

They  could  all  be  locked  up  at  night,  and  were 
under  his  own  roof  as  important  members  of  his 
family.  A  pair  of  setters  and  four  very  fine  stag- 
hounds  made  up  the  list  of  members  and  added 
materially  to  the  security  of  the  other  live-stock. 
Supper  was  ready  by  the  time  the  master  of  the 
house  came  back  from  the  stables,  and  he  ate  it 
with  an  excellent  appetite,  but  all  his  efforts  at  cheer- 
fulness and  all  the  vivid  description  he  gave  of  the 
Munro  family  failed  to  conceal  the  fact  that  he  had 
something  on  his  mind.  The  deep  interest  taken 
by  the  rest  in  their  new  neighbors  did  it  for  him, 
and  Erica's  assent  to  an  early  call  on  Jessie  was 
eagerly  given. 

"  I  hope  she  will  be  company  for  you,"  said  Chum- 
ley,  "  and  I  think  you  will  like  her  mother." 

"  We  shall  like  them  very  much,"  said  Mrs.  Ea- 
gleson,  but  Chumley  had  finished  his  supper  and 
he  at  once  disappeared  through  the  door  at  the  right. 
This,  then,  was  his  own  room,  and  it  had  another 


156  RED  BEAUTY. 

door  on  the  stable  side.  Beyond  a  doubt  it  was  the 
only  room  of  its  exact  kind  in  all  that  region  of 
country.  Not  more  than  twelve  feet  square,  it  was 
a  bedroom,  an  arsenal,  a  library,  a  kind  of  fort, 
while  the  fiddle  and  the  French  horn  hanging  on 
the  wall  testified  that  it  might  also  be  a  music-room. 
Rifles,  fowling-pieces,  pistols,  hunting-knives,  fish- 
ing-rods and  tackle,  testified  to  Chumley's  sporting 
proclivities,  and  the  small  but  well-stocked  book 
case  intimated  that  he  could  and  did  read.  Erica 
may  also  have  had  the  benefit  of  those  books. 
There  was  one  window,  with  a  heavy  outer  shutter 
and  one  as  heavy  inside,  and  all  the  other  rooms 
of  that  house  were  similarly  well  guarded.  It  was 
as  if  the  country  had  been  unsafe  at  some  time,  or 
that  Chumley  had  enemies  and  meant  to  be  ready 
for  them  if  they  should  come  to  see  him. 

He  was  not  thinking  of  them  now,  but  entered 
the  room  with  a  moody,  abstracted  air,  as  if  his 
mind  were  busy  with  persons  and  things  at  a  dis- 
tance. His  hard  mouth  seemed  to  grow  yet  harder, 
and  his  chest  heaved  and  fell  with  strong  breathings. 
He  stood  still  in  the  centre  of  the  floor,  staring  out 
of  the  window  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  to  him- 
self, hoarsely, — 

"A  man  a  fool.  A  woman  a  hollow-hearted 
cheat.  A  ruined  life  ?  Is  it  so  ?  Here  I  am,  and 
as  I  am  instead  of  what  I  might  have  been.  Here 
I  must  not  stay,  though,  unless  about  long  enough 


WOLVES  IN  THEIR  DEN.  357 

to  kill  Jerry  McCord  and  some  of  his  Pawnees  and 
make  the  place  safe  to  live  in.  It  isn't  easy  for  me 
to  look  into  that  girl's  face,  but  I  must  go  over 
there  again  in  the  morning." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

WOLVES  IN  THEIR  DEN. 

THE  lieutenant  commanding  the  squad  of  cavalry 
two  hundred  miles  away  northward  went  to  sleep 
saying,— 

"  They're  up  hereaway  somewhere." 

The  captain,  only  a  day's  march  from  the  Pawnee 
Trail,  at  the  same  hour  remarked  to  his  orderly 
sergeant, — 

"  We  must  go  slow  to-morrow  or  we  shall  go  by 
them  somewhere." 

The  evening's  occurrences  at  the  Pawnee  outlaw 
camp  among  the  hills  began  early.  Two  more  In- 
dians rode  in,  and  there  were  indications  that  these 
were  not  Pawnees,  but  renegades  from  some  other 
tribe.  At  all  events  they  were  of  the  kind  of  In- 
dians who  cannot  long  be  kept  upon  any  "  reserva- 
tion" after  the  regular  government  annuities  and 
presents  have  been  distributed. 

14 


158  RED  BEAUTY. 

This  pair  of  dusky  vagabonds  had  a  dangerous 
cargo  strapped  upon  the  back  of  a  pony  they  were 
leading.  The  pony  was  one  that  his  owner  had 
missed  three  days  before,  and  the  pair  of  five-gal- 
lon kegs  he  carried  had  been  filled  in  some  manner 
unknown  to  the  trader  claiming  the  evil  "  barrel." 

Ten  gallons  or  so  of  "  blue  ruin,"  infernalism, 
crime.  The  liquid  form  in  which  the  Enemy  of 
men  commonly  appears  nowadays,  and  it  was  very 
much  as  if  he  had  come  to  his  own  when  that 
whiskey  was  carried  into  Jerry  McCord's  camp. 

It  is  not  well  to  even  try  and  imagine  the  wooden 
stupidities  and  other  wretchednesses  of  a  savage 
orgy,  but  this  one  had  a  peculiarity  of  its  own. 
The  stolen  poison  was  dealt  out  with  jealous  fair- 
ness and  regularity,  without  quarrelling,  and  only 
a  mere  trifle  was  given  to  any  squaw.  It  was  ap- 
parent that  all  those  born  and  bred  rascals  were 
under  a  strong  law  and  discipline  of  their  own, 
and  were  trying  to  observe  it  rigidly. 

There  was  one  inevitable  result,  and  that  was 
the  helplessness  of  the  entire  party  before  midnight. 
It  was  another  consequence,  just  as  inevitable,  that 
any  lurking,  cowardly  mischief  in  any  evil  bosom 
among  them  would  either  be  laid  asleep  or  aroused 
to  insane  activity.  All  but  one  went  to  sleep. 
Even  the  tall  warrior  whose  turn  it  was  to  "  stand 
guard"  sat  down  for  that  purpose  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree,  and  fell  against  it  shortly.  His  slumbers  were 


WOLVES  IN  THEIR  DEN.  159 

as  deep  as  those  of  any  other  victim  of  strong  drink 
in  that  camp.  There  was  but  one  brain  among 
them  all  which  had  not  been  overcome,  and  even 
this  one  had  lost  all  but  a  single,  overwhelming, 
inherited  passion  and  faculty.  That  is,  there  was 
one  Pawnee  whose  inborn  thirst  for  killing  had 
not  been  drowned  by  the  fire-water.  This  human 
wolf  half-way  awakened,  with  a  dreamy  determina- 
tion to  murder  somebody,  but  without  any  definite 
hate  or  purpose  against  one  more  than  another  of 
his  fellow-outlaws. 

By  the  light  of  the  smouldering  fires  he  saw  the 
drunken  sentry  slumbering  against  the  tree.  In 
an  instant  the  wild  beast  within  him  had  found  an 
object,  and  he  was  crawling  through  the  grass  in 
the  direction  of  the  shadows  behind  that  tree.  Not 
another  pair  of  eyes  in  camp  was  open  when  his 
dark,  demoniac  visage  gleamed  close  to  the  earth 
at  the  side  of  the  tree-trunk.  Something  was  lifted 
that  glittered  as  it  rose.  A  dull,  faint  thud  told  of 
a  knife  driven  to  the  very  hilt.  There,  was  a  arasp- 

«/  O        -t 

ing  gurgle  as  the  blade  was  withdrawn,  but  the 
dead  sentry  whose  heart  had  been  cloven  never 
altered  his  position  between  the  roots  and  against 
the  trunk.  The  human  wolf  was  satisfied,  and 
crawled  away  without  leaving  a  trace  behind  him, 
although  it  was  quite  likely  that  in  the  morning  he 
might  remember  what  he  had  done.  All  he  said 
now  was, — 


160  RED  BEAUTY. 

"Ugh!  One  more.  N"o  take  'calp  this  time. 
Bull- Joe  great  chief." 

Even  vanity  had  something  to  do  with  his  thirst 
for  blood. 

Jerry  McCord  must  have  loitered  on  the  way,  for 
it  was  an  hour  later  before  he  entered  the  little 
valley.  Dogs  barked  as  he  drew  near,  but  no  human 
being  came  to  see  who  he  might  be  or  on  what  er- 
rand. He  was  surprised  only  until  he  had  examined 
one  prostrate  form  and  exclaimed, — 

"  Where  did  they  get  it,  I  wonder  ?" 

He  turned  his  horse  loose  and  made  the  rounds 
of  the  camp  until  he  knew  the  full  extent  of  the 
matter,  and  the  last  drunkard  he  took  note  of  was 
the  sentry  at  the  tree.  He  had  seen  him  before, 
indeed,  for  all  around  him  had  gathered  nearly  a 
dozen  of  such  mongrel  curs  as  infest  such  a  com- 
munity. They  were  watching  him  as  if  puzzled, 
or  as  if  some  remnant  of  their  own  original  wolf- 
ishness  had  been  stirred  by  such  a  presence. 

Jerry  McCord  leaned  forward  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  shoulder  of  the  seemingly  sleeping  Indian, 
but  he  instantly  withdrew  it. 

"  Dead  ?    Murdered  ?     There  has  been  a  fight !" 

Loud,  shrill,  angry,  piercing,  was  the  Pawnee 
war-whoop  with  which  he  startled  that  camp.  No 
Indian  among  them  could  have  done  it  better,  and 
every  soul  with  life  enough  left  to  hear  sprang  up  or 
staggered  up  at  once.  That  meant  all  the  squaws 


WOLVES  IN  THEIR  DEN. 

and  four  or  five  sodden,  listless  warriors,  among 
whom  was  not  the  one  who  had  slain  the  sentry. 
They  came  to  stand  around  among  the  dogs  and 
listen  vaguely  to  Jerry's  storm  of  wrathful  question- 
ing, and  to  grunt  their  own  stupid  and  ignorant 
astonishment.  Not  one  of  them  could  tell  how  the 
thing  had  happened.  Even  the  sober  squaws  de- 
clared it  a  mystery,  but  they  sat  up  afterwards  while 
the  "braves"  went  off  to  sleep  again,  the  latter 
muttering  threats  against  somebody  or  other  in  the 
morning. 

Jerry  himself  did  not  even  sit  down.  He  strode 
slowly  back  and  forth  among  the  shadows  and  the 
dull,  dying  fire-glows,  as  if  he  had  something  upon 
his  mind. 

All  around  him  were  the  last  and  worst  results 
of  selfish  savagery,  even  to  the  corpse  at  the  tree. 
He  was  among  them  and  of  them,  and  he  was  a 
white  man.  Young,  strong,  handsome,  intelligent, 
capable,  a  white  Pawnee  and  a  horse-thief.  It 
would  have  been  wonderful  if  there  had  not  come 
to  him  at  least  one  flashing  imagination  of  two  fair, 
innocent  girl  faces,  looking  at  him  scornfully,  as  at 
something  unutterably  beneath  them. 

Just  a  glimpse,  perhaps,  but  it  burnt  him,  and  he 
clinched  his  hands  desperately. 

"I'll  take  Jessie  Munro,"  he  said,  "and  I'll  get 
out  of  this.  I've  had  enough  of  it.  I'd  better  put 

one  of  the  bucks  on  the  trail  of  that  old  Pota- 
l  14* 


162  RED  BEAUTY. 

watamy  before  his  tongue  does  any  harm.  Chum- 
ley's  time  has  come  if  he  interferes.  No  more 
nonsense.  Erica?  I  love  her  as  much  as  ever. 
She  is  a  beauty,  but  she'd  not  be  so  good  a  match 
as  the  Yankee  girl.  Nobody  can  prove  anything 
against  me.  I'll  get  rid  of  all  I've  got  out  yonder, 
and  that  '11  give  me  enough  for  a  start.  Then  I'll 
take  Jessie  and  turn  farmer.  I'd  like  it,  though, 
if  these  fellows  would  all  kill  each  other  and  make 
an  end  of  the  gang.  They've  begun  well." 

The  first  faint  light  of  dawn  was  climbing  the 
easterly  tree-tops  when  Jerry  McCord's  disgust 
with  his  associates  came  to  help  settle  his  determi- 
nation. He  confessed  to  himself  that  he  had  been 
often  in  love  before,  but  never  so  tremendously  as 
now.  He  also  declared,  in  several  other  forms,  that 
he  was  sick  of  his  vagabond  life  and  was  quite 
sure  of  being  able  to  hide  its  record,  provided 
Chumley  could  be  killed  before  he  could  come  be- 
tween him  and  the  good  opinion  of  the  Munro 
family.  He  would  only  stay  in  that  camp  long 
enough  to  get  breakfast,  and  he  would  then  set  out 
upon  the  prosecution  of  his  new  plans,  courtship 
included.  Strange  to  say,  he  actually  considered  all 
this  as  some  sort  of  reformation.  It  was  a  little 
mixed  with  proposed  deceit,  lying,  cheating,  and 
murder,  but  he  did  not  look  into  that  part  of  his 
improved  state  of  mind  too  closely. 

At  about  the  same  hour  of  the  morning  Bob 


WOLVES  IN  THEIR  DEN.  163 

Munro  came  and  poked  Ms  great,  kindly,  lion-like 
head  into  the  tent  where  Perry  was  lying,  and  a 
glance  told  him  that  his  master  was  waking  up. 
Mr.  Munro  lay  sleeping  soundly  under  the  same 
canvas,  but  Bob's  errand  was  not  to  him.  He 
came  to  see  if  he  could  find  some  method  of  tell- 
ing Perry  that  Jessie  was  already  out  of  her  tent, 
studying  the  situation,  and  that  Uncle  John,  whose 
turn  it  was  to  play  watchman,  was  acting  that 
character  with  his  eyes  shut  and  his  mouth  open. 

Perry  could  not  understand  the  whine,  but  he 
was  eager  to  be  up  and  doing.  He  felt  as  if  there 
was  a  new  farm  to  be  opened  and  a  house  to  be 
built  that  very  day.  He  did  not  disturb  his  father, 
but  in  half  a  minute  he  was  out  of  the  tent  and  far 
enough  from  it  to  see  Jessie  beckoning  to  him. 

"  Perry,"  she  said,  as  he  drew  nearer,  "  do  come 
and  look  at  Uncle  John." 

That  was  not  precisely  what  she  meant.  Uncle 
John  was  there,  sure  enough,  on  a  blanket  spread 
not  far  from  the  ashes  of  the  fire,  but  he  was  not 
alone.  There  would  have  been  nothing  worth  com- 
ing to  see  if  he  had  been  alone.  Just  beyond  him, 
and  so  near  that  one  of  her  hoofs  all  but  touched 
him,  lay  a  cow.  At  his  feet  had  settled  Jemima,  with 
her  children  around  her.  The  cat  lay,  purring,  close 
against  the  arm  he  had  thrown  out.  Take  it  alto- 
gether, they  made  a  picture  of  mutual  confidence 
and  esteem,  but  Perry  sarcastically  remarked, — 


164  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  There's  no  danger  in  him  now.  All  his  pills 
are  in  his  box." 

Jemima  may  have  heard,  but  certainly  she  saw, 
and  her  loud  good-morning  grunt  disturbed  both 
the  cow  and  Uncle  John.  They  awoke  at  the 
same  instant,  and  his  first  movement  swept  away 
the  cat. 

"  I  declare !  I  must  have  fallen  into  a  doze. 
Perry  ?  Jessie  ?  Do  you  see  this  ?  There  is  some- 
thing remarkable  in  the  instinctive  fondness  of 
domestic  animals  for  the  human  race." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Perry.  "  If  Pawnees  had  come 
they  could  hardly  have  gotten  at  you  without  step- 
ping on  one  of  them.  Bob  was  awake,  too.  He's 
worth  all  the  rest  of  us  for  a  sentinel." 

Then  Jessie  heard  for  the  first  time  the  story  of 
Red  Beauty  and  the  blanket,  and  she  and  Perry 
set  themselves  at  work  to  get  as  much  camp-keep- 
ing done  as  might  be  before  their  father  and 
mother  should  open  their  eyes.  The  fire  was  well 
agoing  before  the  sun  looked  in  above  the  rim  of 
the  prairie. 

Before  that  time  there  had  been  a  great  disturb- 
ance among  Mr.  Chumley's  dogs.  All  six  of  them 
began  to  bark  or  bay  at  the  same  moment,  as  if 
some  kind  of  canine  alarm-clock  had  been  sprung 
in  each  dog's  throat. 

There  was  a  rustling  inside  of  the  house,  and 
then  a  sort  of  bung  was  removed  from  a  hole  in 


WOLVES  IN   THEIR   DEN.  165 

the  front  door.  A  rifle  could  have  been  shoved 
through  that  hole,  but  all  that  came  out  of  it  now 
was  a  deep  voice  inquiring, — 

"  Well  ?  What  are  you  here  for  now  ?  Is  any- 
thing up  ?" 

"  Chumley  want  UP.  Red  Beauty  good  Indian. 
Hate  Pawnee." 

That  word  seemed  to  be  enough.  The  gray- 
headed  old  wanderer  sat  on  his  pony  by  the  gate, 
in  patient  silence,  until  Chumley  came  out  to  ask 
him  the  fall  meaning  of  so  early  a  call.  Of  course 
it  meant  breakfast,  but  any  one  familiar  with  In- 
dian ways  could  tell  that  it  meant  more. 

"  He  can't  speak  the  truth  to  save  his  life,"  said 
Chumley  to  himself,  "  but  I  may  learn  something." 

That  was  just  before  he  put  out  his  hand  and 
said, — 

"How!  Get  down.  I'll  give  you  and  your 
pony  a  feed.  What  about  the  Pawnees  ?" 

"  Jerry  McCord  kill  Red  Beauty  if  he  know." 

"  He'll  never  know.     Trust  me." 

"Know  Chumley.  Lie  a  heap.  Good  friend, 
all  same.  Jerry  McCord  say  he  kill  Chumley 
pretty  soon.  'Teal  squaw,  too." 

He  made  a  pointing  motion  in  the  direction  of 
the  Munro  camp  as  he  spoke,  and  Chumley's  eyes 
flashed  fire  as  he  sharply  asked, — 

"  Has  he  been  there  already?    Did  you  see  him?" 

"  Chumley  go  there.    Ask  who  bring  deer.    Tell 


166  RED  BEAUTY. 

him  *  Payne.'  Red  Beauty  know  Payne.  Chumley 
know  him.  All  bad.  Pawnee  come  pretty  soon. 
Take  horse.  Take  'calp.  Take  squaw.  Jerry 
McCord  big  devil.  Mean  to  kill  Eed  Beauty. 
Keep  his  mouth  shut." 

The  keen  eyes  of  the  old  Potawatamy  had  read 
the  outlaw's  face  as  if  it  had  been  a  book,  and  his 
present  errand  had  in  it  more  than  a  little  of  the 
cunning  of  self-preservation. 

"  That's  it,  is  it  ?"  said  Chumley.  "  Well.  We'll 
have  some  breakfast  and  then  we'll  go  over.  Did 
you  tell  the  Munros  ?" 

"  'Poke  to  boy.  Old  man  fool.  Other  old  man 
too  much  medicine.  Boy  young  brave.  Red  Beauty 
keep  away.  Jerry  come  shoot  him.  No  fool  to 
get  kill." 

"  That  '11  do,"  said  Chumley.  "  I'll  see  about 
Jerry's  business.  It's  time  somebody  put  daylight 
into  him.  All  I  want  is  a  good  reason  to  give  a 
jury." 

The  Indian  understood  him,  for  he  responded, 
without  moving  a  muscle  of  his  face, — 

"  Tree  no  tell.  Stand  all  round  and  say  nothing. 
Big  tree  keep  mouth  shut.  Bush  cover  hole.  Put 
Jerry  in.  Stay  there.  Nobody  ask  where  gone, 
so  he  no  come  back." 

"  Just  so,"  said  Chumley.  "  You  can  come  in. 
I'll  attend  to  my  stock  while  they're  getting  break- 
fast ready." 


"HOLD    UP  YOUR  HANDS."  167 

The  voices  in  the  house  announced  that  all  were 
stirring,  and  Gustav  was  quickly  out  attending  to 
his  share  of  what  country  people  call  "  chores." 
There  were  indications  that  some  of  the  stock  was 
his  own,  and  that  he  was  not  so  entirely  employed 
by  Chumley  that  he  was  not  preparing  to  occupy 
and  use  his  own  land  in  due  season. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

"HOLD  UP  YOUR  HANDS." 

JERRY  McCoRD's  Pawnees  awoke  slowly  that 
summer  morning,  thief  after  thief  being  stirred  up 
roughly  to  find  that  the  alcoholic  cloud  was  yet 
pressing  upon  such  brains  as  he  might  have.  All 
the  poison  which  had  not  been  consumed  the 
previous  evening  was  now  securely  hidden,  and 
coffee  had  to  be  taken  instead.  There  were  plain 
reasons  for  a  belief  that  the  surrounding  country 
was  safe  from  any  mischievous  activity  of  that  gang 
for  at  least  a  day  or  so.  One  after  another  they  each 
went  and  took  a  long  look  at  the  dead  sentry. 
Every  "brave"  said  "Ugh !"  in  his  regular  turn,  but 
nothing  more  until  the  murderer  himself  finished 
a  stupid  stare  and  then  asked  of  Jerry  McCord, — 

"  Kill  him  'cause  he  go  drunk  and  sleep  hard  ?" 


168  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Ugh  !"  "  Ugh  !"  "  Ugh  !"  again  went  the 
rounds  of  the  dusky  circle,  but  a  moment's  medi- 
tation put  away  the  idea  as  untenable.  Jerry  was 
not  that  kind  of  disciplinarian,  and  the  murdered 
man  had  been  one  of  his  warmest  supporters  always. 

They  were  all  detectives  as  well  as  thieves,  but 
that  case  was  too  much  for  them.  The  deed  had 
been  so  utterly  without  apparent  motive  that  there 
were  no  traces  leading  up  to  it,  and  the  actual  doer 
of  it  was  safe  behind  the  wooden  stolidity  of  his 
own  unwitnessing  features. 

All  that  could  be  done  by  Jerry  was  to  leave  or- 
ders for  a  burial,  eat  his  own  breakfast,  and  ride 
away,  with  his  disgust  for  vagabond  red  men  made 
stronger  than  ever  by  a  thought  which  came  to  him : 

"  That  suspicion  may  take  root.  If  it  does,  I 
shall  be  found  dead  at  the  foot  of  some  tree  or  other 
and  no  man  will  know  how.  It's  about  time  for 
me  to  get  married  and  settle  down.  They'd  murder 
me  for  a  pipe  of  tobacco." 

If  he  had  added  "  or  for  nothing,"  he  would  have 
expressed  the  truth  exactly,  and  their  camp  was  not 
the  only  place  where  his  life  was  likely  to  be  an 
insecure  possession. 

During  all  that  time  the  sun  had  not  paused  for 
a  moment,  and  the  morning  had  grown  busy  at 
other  places.  "  Chores"  and  breakfast  were  over  at 
Chumley's,  and  preparations  were  making  to  spend 
the  day  with  the  Munro  family. 


"  HOLD    UP   YOUR  HANDS."  169 

The  Red  Beauty  made  no  preparations.  He  filled 
his  pipe  for  the  second  time  with  the  tobacco  given 
him,  and  sat  down  on  the  doorstep  as  if  he  knew 
no  happier  place  on  earth. 

"  Come,"  said  Chumley.     "  Get  pony." 

"No.  Ugh!  Red  Beauty  stay  here.  No  see 
medicine  man  any  more.  Give  him  too  much  pill." 

He  was  but  dimly  understood,  but  Chumley 's 
thoughts  recurred  correctly  to  Uncle  John.  He 
responded, — 

"  What  can  you  do  here  ?" 

"  'Teal  Chumley  horse.  Kill  dog.  Burn  house. 
Milk  cow.  Keep  eye  open  nobody  come.  Red 
Beauty  not  want  Jerry  McCord  find  him.  Jerry 
keep  away  from  Chumley  house.  Good  Indian  all 
safe.  Not  go  to  pill  man." 

"  Stay,  then,"  said  Chumley.  "  You  won't  do 
any  mischief.  Watch  the  ranch.  Look  out  for 
Pawnees." 

"  Chumley  heap  fool." 

"  What  for  ?" 

"  Not  shoot  Jerry.     Not  shoot  Pawnee." 

"  Don't  want  to  be  hung,"  said  Chumley. 

"No  hang.  Say  Indian  do  it.  All  white  man 
say  'good.'  No  hang  good  Indian  just  for  little 
kill  and  'calp." 

"  Something  in  that,"  said  Chumley,  "  or  you'd 
have  been  hung  long  ago." 

"  Ugh !     Red  Beauty  no  fool.     Try  shoot  first 
H  15 


170  RED   BEAUTY. 

every  time.  Chumley  wait.  Stand  'till.  Jerry 
shoot  first.  Send  Pawnee  for  Chumley  'ealp 
maybe." 

Chumley's  mouth  gave  signs  that  the  counsel 
was  by  no  means  lost  upon  him.  He  left  his  re- 
markable garrison  in  full  charge  of  the  premises. 
He  also  left  a  setter  and  a  stag-hound  in  charge  of 
the  red  garrison,  and  took  but  four  dogs  with  him 
to  visit  Bob  Munro. 

Bob  had  no  idea  that  he  had  company  coming, 
but  his  human  fellow-immigrants  were  very  much 
exercised  about  the  help  they  were  to  have  in  put- 
ting up  their  patent  house.  In  the  excitement  of 
the  previous  evening  not  a  great  deal  had  been  said 
about  their  neighbors,  but  now  that  they  expected 
to  see  them  soon  it  was  different. 

"  Mother,"  said  Jessie,  "  what  do  you  think  of 
Mr.  Chumley?" 

"  He  was  a  great  surprise  to  me,  after  what  we 
had  heard." 

"  He  was  to  me.  He  seemed  to  wish  to  be  polite 
and  neighborly." 

"Jessie,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  emphatically,  "I 
don't  know  what  to  say.  He  is  a  very  young  man. 
Too  young  to  have  been  married  and  separated 
without  something  dreadful.  I'm  in  doubt  how  to 
treat  him." 

""We  do  not  know  one  thing.  Mr.  Payne  said 
he  didn't  and  nobody  else  did." 


"HOLD    UP  FOUR  HANDS."  171 

"  Neither  do  we,  my  dear,  but  we  can  watch  our 
conduct  carefully.  I  suppose  the  Swedish  family 
work  for  him.  Immigrants  of  the  ordinary,  coarse 
kind." 

"  Erica  is  a  pretty  enough  name." 

At  that  moment  Perry  came  to  take  a  part  in  that 
conversation,  and  his  first  question  was, — 

"  Jessie,  what's  your  idea  about  Payne  ?" 

"He's  a  handsome  fellow,  but  I  don't  like  his 
face.  Mother  doesn't." 

"  She  needn't,  then,  nor  you  either.  I  mean  to 
ask  Chumley  about  him.  I  believe  he's  a  rascal." 

"  Not  Mr.  Chumley !" 

"  No,  indeed.  There's  a  good  ring  in  that  man's 
voice.  Guess  he'll  be  a  good  neighbor.  Wouldn't 
like  to  quarrel  with  him,  though." 

Jessie  paused  a  moment,  for  an  idea  of  something 
hard,  obstinate,  overbearing,  relentless,  came  into 
her  mind  as  she  thought  of  Chumley.  It  was  not 
an  attractive  idea,  but  it  was  not  weak  or  mean  or 
false,  and  she  said  to  her  brother, — 

"  Ask  him  about  Payne,  then.  Pd  believe 
him." 

Perry  remembered  his  promise  to  the  Red 
Beauty  just  in  time  to  not  reveal  the  source  of  his 
own  evil  impressions,  and  turned  away  to  the  spot 
where  Mrs.  Munro  was  now  telling  her  husband 
and  his  brother  precisely  how  and  where  the  house 
was  to  stand. 


172  RED  BEAUTY. 

Even  Uncle  John  had  worked  tremendously 
that  morning.  There  was  one  door  of  the  house, 
for  instance,  which  he  had  turned  over  ten  times  in 
an  effort  to  ascertain  its  inner  character,  as  belong- 
ing to  the  front  or  rear,  and  had  finally  concluded 
that  it  would  work  better  as  a  side  door.  It  was  a 
comfort  to  him  that  the  window-sashes  were  all 
alike,  and  his  mind  grew  more  and  more  easy  until 
an  idea  flashed  upon  him.  It  came  too  suddenly 
to  be  suppressed  or  adjusted,  and  it  sprang  from 
his  lips  in  the  very  unlucky  form : 

"  Maria !     We  brought  no  cellar !" 

Perry  heard  him  and  shouted, — 

"  Hurrah  for  Uncle  John !  I'll  ask  Chumley  if 
he  hasn't  got  an  old  cellar  he  can  lend  us." 

"  Mistakes  of  expression  will  at  times  arise  un- 
avoidably," said  Uncle  John.  "What  I  mean  is 
that  we  have  no  time  to  dig  one  under  this  house. 
Excavation ' ' 

"  Chumley  says  logs  are  the  thing,  and  I  believe 
him,"  said  Perry.  "  We'll  have  a  cellar  under  the 
log  part  of  our  palace.  Look  out  yonder !  They're 
coming.  What  a  lot  of  dogs !  The  women  have 
come,  too.  Now  there'll  be  a  time !" 

It  was  a  day  for  enthusiasm.  Something  of  the 
sort  showed  itself  in  the  way  in  which  the  hounds 
and  the  setter  came  racing  forward  to  investigate 
the  Munro  train,  and  in  the  depth  and  vigor  of 
Bob's  sonorous  welcome.  It  was  a  grand  thing  to 


"HOLD    UP   YOUR  HANDS."  173 

have  neighbors;  and  he  was  answered  by  throats 
as  deep  as  his  own  and  even  more  musical. 

"  Splendid  fellows !"  exclaimed  Perry.  "  Jessie, 
I  like  Chumley  better  than  I  did,  now  I've  seen 
his  dogs.  There  isn't  a  cur  among  them." 

Bob  and  his  neighbors  were  upon  good  terms  at 
once,  and  he  seemed  disposed  to  show  them  all 
there  was  of  the  Munro  outfit.  Then  he  led  them 
down  to  the  brook,  and  every  dog  of  them  took  a 
drink  and  seemed  to  approve  the  quality  of  the 
water.  Not  one  of  them  was  so  lacking  in  good 
sense  as  to  have  preferred  a  beverage  fit  only  for 
horse-thieves  and  vagabond  Pawnees. 

Mrs.  Munro's  fine  black  eyes  saw  a  great  deal  at 
any  time,  and  she  took  especial  note  of  the  perfect 
skill  with  which  Chumley  performed  all  the  pro- 
cesses required  to  make  his  Swedish  friends  at 
home  with  their  new  acquaintances.  It  was  kindly 
well  done,  and  so  finished  that  Jessie  found  herself 
in  charge  of  Erica  without  an  effort  on  her  part 
that  she  was  aware  of.  At  the  same  moment  it 
was  manifest  that  the  Munros  were  an  astonished 
family  all  around.  Jessie's  mother,  for  instance, 
was  inwardly  exclaiming, — 

"  Swedish  immigrants  ?  Why,  Mrs.  Eagleson 
is  a  noble-looking  woman,  and  her  daughter  is 
beautiful !" 

Perry's  eyes  betrayed  his  opinion  for  him,  but 

did  not  fail  to  note  that  the  iron  melted  away  a 

16* 


174  RED  BEAUTY. 

little  from  Chumley's  mouth  when  he  saw  how  his 
friends  were  received. 

Jessie  led  Erica  away  upon  a  sort  of  tour  of 
inspection,  and  for  all  the  rest  of  them  there  lay 
the  house.  It  was  all  numbered,  ready  for  use, 
except  the  side-rear-front  door  which  had  so  puzzled 
Uncle  John.  This  was  one  of  the  first  important 
matters  pointed  out  to  Chumley,  and  he  re- 
sponded,— 

"  Measure  and  see  where  it  fits." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  said  Uncle  John.  "  I  never  thought 
of  that" 

He  did  so,  with  scientific  exactness  and  great 
rapidity,  for  him.  In  about  a  minute  and  a  half 
the  problem  was  solved,  for  Uncle  John  arose,  rule 
in  hand,  to  remark, — 

"  This  door  is  too  large !  It  belongs  to  some 
other  house!" 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Chumley.  "  "We  can  cut  it 
down  to  the  right  size.  That  isn't  the  first  thing. 
What  you  want  now  is  a  good  post  for  each  corner. 
Sink  'em  in  the  ground,  you  know.  Something 
for  the  house  to  stand  upon." 

"Exactly,"  said  Uncle  John.  "I  suppose  my 
brother  and  I  could  dig  those  holes." 

"  Eagleson  is  a  first-class  axeman.  He  and  Perry 
and  I  had  better  go  to  the  timber  at  once.  Get  the 
holes  ready  while  we're  gone." 

So  was  it  done,  and  every  dog  followed  the  squad 


"HOLD    UP   YOUR  HANDS."  175 

of  post-cutters  into  the  timber.  Perry  Munro  had 
as  yet  hardly  said  ten  words  to  Erica  Eagleson,  but 
the  thought  in  his  mind  as  he  set  off  was, — 

"  Glad  she  isn't  coming.  I  wouldn't  like  her  to 
see  how  I  bungle  with  an  axe.  What  eyes,  and 
what  magnificent  hair !" 

He  was  a  pretty  good  hand  with  tools  for  his  age, 
but  it  somehow  seemed,  curiously,  as  if  such  blue 
eyes  as  Erica's  ought  to  look  only  upon  perfection. 
At  least  in  anything  done  by  Mr.  Perry  Munro. 

They  were  to  look  upon  something  very  imper- 
fect before  long,  but  just  now  they  were  following 
those  of  Jessie  among  the  half-unpacked  treasures 
of  Yankee  housekeeping. 

"  No  breakages  yet,  Jessie,"  said  Mrs.  Munro. 
"It  is  really  wonderful.  I  was  afraid  that  that 
china  cream-jug  would  lose  its  nose,  but  it  hasn't." 

"  Erica,"  said  Jessie,  "  do  you  know  the  English 
names  of  all  these  ?" 

"Not  all,"  said  Erica,  with  a  merry,  musical 
laugh.  "  Mr.  Chumley  taught  me  all  I  know. 
Books,  too." 

"  He  must  be  a  good  teacher." 

"Best  friend.  So  very  good,  kind,  always 
thoughtful " 

"  Are  you  afraid  of  him  ?" 

"  Afraid  of  Mr.  Chumley  ?"  she  was  almost  grave 
for  a  moment,  and  then  she  added :  "I  suppose  so. 
Not  wish  him  to  be  angry." 


176  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  That's  what  I  thought.  But  then  you  like 
him?" 

"  Oh,  very  much !"  and  the  earnest  frankness  of 
her  answer  had  in  it  something  all  but  enthusiastic. 
It  should  have  been  heard  by  Jerry  McCord,  to 
have  encouraged  him  in  killing  Chumley  to  secure 
Erica's  good  opinion. 

All  there  was  as  bright  and  cheery  as  the  June 
sunshine,  but  away  in  under  the  trees  of  the  forest 
there  were  shadows.  One  very  dark  shadow  was 
upon  the  face  of  a  rider  who  drew  his  rein  and 
looked  and  listened  and  then  took  from  his  pocket 
a  double  spy-glass.  He  made  a  thoroughly  careful 
survey  of  the  Munro  camp,  and  then  remarked  to 
himself, — 

"  Perry  is  gone.  That  is  probably  his  axe  that 
I  hear.  Dog  is  with  him  of  course.  There  are 
Mr.  Munro  and  his  brother.  Mrs.  Munro.  Jessie. 
Two  other  women.  Yes,  that's  Erica !  What  shall 
I  do  now  ?" 

A  more  perplexing  question  could  hardly  be  pro- 
pounded to  a  handsome  young  man  who  was  des- 
perately in  love  with  two  women  and  preferred  to 
court  them  separately. 

Again  and  again  he  studied  the  situation,  through 
his  glass,  and  the  more  he  looked  the  more  com- 
pletely did  his  vanity  and  his  double-headed  passion 
get  the  better  of  him.  The  cunning  of  some  ser- 
pents is  very  coarse-fibred  and  shallow,  and  gets 


"HOLD    UP   YOUR  HANDS."  177 

them  into  difficulties.  Otherwise  it  would  be  more 
difficult  to  catch  and  kill  snakes  than  it  now  is. 

"  It  won't  be  a  bad  thing  to  see  them  together," 
he  said  to  himself.  "  Erica  won't  dream  of  saying 
anything  awkward  before  Jessie  and  her  mother. 
She  will  see  that  I  am  on  good  terms  with  the 
Munros,  and  that  '11  help.  If  I  could  get  Jessie 
jealous  of  Erica  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  do." 

There  was  a  vast  amount  of  confidence  in  his  own 
power  to  please  hidden  under  that  crude  idea.  At 
all  events,  his  handsome  face  wore  its  most  taking 
smile  when  he  rode  in.  He  sent  a  hearty  hail  to 
the  two  men  digging  post-holes,  and  then  he  swung 
his  hat  to  the  ladies  in  a  sweeping  bow  and  sprang 
lightly  to  the  ground  beside  them.  His  whole  man- 
ner was  that  of  an  accepted  friend  of  the  family,  to 
Erica's  astonishment,  and  her  mother  did  not  guess 
who  the  stranger  might  be  until  she  looked  at  the 
fair  girl's  painfully  burning  face. 

Neither  Jessie  nor  Mrs.  Munro  had  noticed  that, 
for  they  were  replying  to  the  salutations  of  Mr. 
Payne,  while  Erica  had  shrinkingly  stepped  back  a 
pace  or  two.  She  responded  by  no  syllable  to  the 
greeting  sent  her  over  their  shoulders  by  the  man 
she  had  met  so  romantically  under  the  greenwood 
tree. 

Mrs.  Munro  had  eyes  and  thoughts  which  worked 
rapidly,  and  in  another  instant  they  told  her  some- 
thing. 


178  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Chumley  and  lie  are  enemies,"  she  said  to  her- 
self. "  Erica  knows  it.  The  meeting  is  unpleasant 
to  them." 

Nevertheless  she  said  to  him, — 

"  I  suppose,  Mr.  Payne,  you  are  acquainted  with 
Mrs.  Eagleson  and  her  daughter,  Erica.  I  need  not 
take  the  trouble  to  introduce  old  settlers." 

"  I  have  met  Miss  Erica,"  said  Payne  with  his  best 
manner,  just  as  Mrs.  Eagleson  bluntly  put  into 
words  the  meaning  of  a  slight  flash  that  was  rising 
in  her  blue  eyes. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  do  not  know  him.  Erica 
knows  him  not.  You  tell  me  who  he  is." 

The  whole  situation  was  dreadfully  tangled  in  a 
moment.  The  girls  were  not  in  the  least  jealous 
of  each  other  as  yet,  but  neither  of  them  knew 
what  to  do  or  say.  To  Mrs.  Munro  it  was  a  further 
tangle  that  she  knew  nothing  of  Chumley  or  his 
Swedish  friends,  and  that  would  have  been  worse 
bat  for  the  honest  faces  of  Erica  and  her  mother. 

"  Mr.  Payne,"  she  said  in  her  dilemma,  "  I  wish 
you  would  go  and  talk  with  Mr.  Munro  for  a 
moment." 

She  had  help  just  there,  for  the  two  diggers  had 
left  their  work  and  were  close  at  hand. 

"  How  are  you  to-day,  Mr.  Payne  ?"  said  Uncle 
John,  heartily,  and  "  Howd'ye  do,  Payne  ?  Didn't 
look  for  you  again  so  soon,"  said  Mr.  Munro,  but 
their  frank  greetings  came  too  late. 


"HOLD    UP  YOUR  HANDS."  179 

The  suspicious  vanity  of  Jerry  McCord  had  taken 
fire,  and  he  almost  forgot  that  he  was  Edward 
Payne,  the  land-owner,  free  hunter,  the  lover,  as  he 
fiercely  exclaimed, — 

"  Who  has  been  slandering  me  ?  Who  has  dared 
to  say  a  word  against  me  ?" 

"Nobody,"  promptly  replied  both  Mrs.  Munro 
and  her  husband,  while  Uncle  John  added, — 

"  I  have  not  heard  a  breath  against  your  char- 
acter. What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

There  was  a  professional  sound  in  that,  and  the 
symptoms  denoted  feverish  excitability,  aggravated 
by  the  fact  that  Erica  had  drawn  farther  away  and 
that  Jessie  instinctively  fell  back  with  her. 

"  I  wish  to  speak  with  Mrs.  Eagleson,  Mr.  Payne," 
persisted  Mrs.  Munro,  and  it  seemed  that  he  re- 
tained some  traces  of  early  training  if  not  of  worldly 
wisdom,  for  he  permitted  himself  to  be  left  with 
the  two  men.  There  was  not  a  lady,  young  or  old, 
within  twenty  feet  of  him,  when  something  oc- 
curred altogether  new  and  unexpected. 

The  axe  listened  to  by  Jerry  before  he  left  the 
woods  had  been  chopping  its  last  chips  of  its  set 
task.  It  does  not  take  long  for  a  good  axeman  to 
fell  a  couple  of  slender  young  pines,  and  for  him 
and  two  others  to  cut  from  them  four  five-feet  long 
corner  posts.  The  work  in  the  timber  had  been 
rapidly  completed,  therefore,  and  each  of  the  chop- 
pers took  up  a  post  to  return.  The  broad  shoulders 


180  RED  BEAUTY. 

of  Gustav  were  none  too  heavily  laden  with  two, 
and  the  patent  house  would  now  be  sure  of  having 
feet  to  stand  upon. 

The  approach  of  the  post-bearers  had  been  alto- 
gether unnoticed,  or  the  women  might  have  seen  a 
thing  that  astonished  Gustav  and  Perry. 

Chumley  had  been  in  a  most  neighborly  frame 
of  mind  apparently,  and  had  even  made  efforts  to 
laugh,  with  some  success.  They  were  all  walking 
along  leisurely  and  chatting  about  houses,  when 
suddenly  a  sharp  exclamation  hissed  from  Chum- 
ley's  lips,  and  he  went  forward  as  if  he  had  been 
sent  for. 

"What's  up  now?"  said  Perry,  but  no  answer 
came  back  to  him,  and  he  and  Gustav  could  but 
follow.  At  the  very  moment  when  Mrs.  Munro 
said  to  Mrs.  Eagleson, — 

"  We  met  him  on  the  road  as  we  came.  I  wish 
you  would  tell  us  anything  that  you  know  about 
him." 

Erica's  mother's  one  hand  was  upon  her  shoulder, 
and  she  was  pointing  with  the  other  towards  Jerry, 
asking, — 

"  He  ?    Erica,  speak !     Was  it  he  ?" 

Uncle  John  was  remarking, — 

"  Now,  Mr.  Payne,  let  them  talk.  If  you've  any- 
thing you  want  to  say  to  Joe  and  me,  say  it  right 
out.'* 

Just  then,  as  if  the  entire  situation  had  been 


"HOLD    UP  YOUR  HANDS."  183 

iii  Jessie's  face  was  in  her  eyes.  All  the  rest  had 
fled  in  terror  from  the  awful  idea  presented  by  the 
levelled  pistol  and  the  raised  hands  of  Jerry  Mo- 
Cord. 

The  latter  rode  slowly  away  for  fifty  yards,  halted, 
shook  his  clinched  fist,  and  shouted, — 

"  Your  blood  is  on  your  own  head  from  this  day 
forward !" 

"  Very  well !"  was  all  the  reply,  but  the  words 
seemed  to  have  bodies,  so  dense  were  they  with 
meaning. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Munro.  It  was  abso- 
lutely necessary.  That  fellow  must  never  come 
here  again." 

She  could  hardly  believe  her  eyes  or  ears.  Chum- 
ley  was  under  no  excitement  whatever.  He  was 
actually  smiling  and  his  voice  was  full  of  apologetic 
modulation. 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  will  do  as  he  says  ?  "Will 
he  try  to  kill  you  ?" 

"  Certainly,  unless  he  and  his  gang  find  the 
country  too  hot  for  them  and  clear  out.  I've  noti- 
fied the  authorities  till  I'm  tired  of  it." 

"  Why  did  you  draw  a  pistol  ?"  asked  Perry 
Munro,  with  a  dissatisfied  air. 

"  That,  now,  is  a  fair  question,"  said  Chumley. 
"  Because  the  fellow  is  a  coward  and  was  on  the 
point  of  pulling  out  his  own.  He  is  enough  afraid 
of  me  to  have  used  it  at  once.  If  he  had  been  one 


184  RED  BEAUTY. 

of  his  own  Pawnees  I'd  never  have  dreamed  of 
showing  a  weapon.  You  never  can  tell  what  a 
coward  will  do  and  call  it  courage.  Half  the  mur- 
ders on  the  border  are  done  out  of  fear,  and  the 
other  half  out  of  whiskey." 

"  There  is  philosophy  in  that  explanation,"  said 
Uncle  John,  and  Chumley  changed  the  subject; 

"  Is  my  apology  accepted,  Mrs.  Munro  ?  Are  you 
satisfied,  Perry  ?  Then  let's  put  the  posts  right  in." 

There  was  something  masterful  about  the  man, 
and  Uncle  John  replied, — 

"  I  wish  I  had  another  hole  ready  dug  for  these 
two  other  corners."  And  Perry  at  once  picked  up 
a  spade  as  if  he  meant  to  make  one. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

A  DOG  MUKDER. 

RED  BEAUTY  was  worthy  of  all  the  confidence 
reposed  in  him  by  Chumley,  and  as  soon  as  the 
latter  was  out  of  sight  he  proceeded  to  obtain  a 
clear  perception  of  its  amount  and  degree. 

The  front  door  stood  wide  open,  and  the  Pota- 
watamy  garrison  walked  in  as  if  entering  his  own 
property. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  the  dining-table, 


A  DOG  MURDER.  185 

but  it  was  bare,  save  for  a  box  of  smoking  tobacco, 
thoughtfully  left  out  as  "  supplies." 

Swift  glances  around  discovered  nothing  else  ex- 
cept the  customary  very  plain  furniture  and  a 
double-barrelled  gun,  which  was  resting  its  muzzle 
lazily  against  the  wall  in  one  corner.  This  had  to 
be  examined,  of  course,  and  the  discovery  by  Red 
Beauty  that  it  was  loaded  brought  forth  the  re- 
mark,— 

"  Chumley  heap  shoot.     Good  gun." 

He  had  company  now,  for  both  the  setter  and  the 
stag-hound  saw  him  enter  and  came  bounding  along 
to  know  what  was  going  on.  They  danced  all 
around  him  while  he  examined  the  gun,  whining 
their  desire  for  a  hunt  and  their  doubt  whether  or 
not  it  was  their  duty  to  make  him  put  it  down. 

He  turned  to  the  door  of  Chumley's  own  room 
and  tried  it,  but  it  was  locked  and  the  setter  growled. 
He  crossed  to  the  door  of  the  other  bedroom,  and 
barely  ascertained  that  it  was  also  locked  before  the 
hound  took  his  turn  for  a  growl.  Both  dogs  seemed 
entirely  satisfied  when  he  walked  out  into  the  open 
area  back  of  that  room  and  through  it  to  the  kitchen 
on  the  left.  An  ample  dinner  for  the  garrison  lay 
covered  by  a  pan  on  the  kitchen  table,  but  nothing 
else  was  lying  around  loosely. 

"  Good  dog,"  said  Red  Beauty,  as  he  gave  them 
each  a  scrap.  "  Old  chief  keep  dog  from  'tealing. 
Chumley  house  heap  poor." 

16* 


186  RED   BEAUTY. 

He  did  not  say  "  Ugh !"  again  with  any  special 
energy  until  he  had  tried  the  stable-doors  and  dis- 
covered that  they  were  barred  on  the  inside  in  a 
peculiarly  strong  and  troublesome  way. 

"  Horse  no  got  gun,"  he  said.  "  Jerry  McCord 
Pawnee  take  axe." 

He  had  no  purpose  of  using  one,  but  he  looked 
around  as  if  to  see  if  any  such  tool  were  available 
in  case  of  need.  Not  one  was  to  be  found,  and 
again  the  Red  Beauty  remarked  upon  the  poverty 
of  Chumley's  house.  He  seemed  to  have  a  further 
curiosity  as  to  how  the  stable-doors  could  be  fas- 
tened on  the  inside,  but  his  fumbling  inquiries  were 
now  rewarded  by  a  double  growl  of  dissatisfaction. 

He  studied  the  situation  in  silence  for  a  moment, 
and  then  went  out  for  a  look  at  four  mules  belong- 
ing to  Gustav  Eagleson  which  were  feeding  in  the 
pasture  lot. 

"  Chumley  lock  up  three  horse.  Leave  out  mule. 
Bring  in  mule,  lock  'em  up  in  house  ?  No.  Ugh ! 
Pawnee  'teal  mule  some  day.  Red  Beauty  find  a 
male  good  many  time.  Good  Indian,  no  'teal." 

The  front  room  now  seemed  to  have  a  peculiar 
charm  of  its  own.  For  the  first  time  in  his  peculiar 
life  the  old  Potawatamy  had  a  house  to  himself,  and 
he  made  the  most  of  it.  He  drew  a  chair  to  the 
table,  filled  his  pipe  again,  lighted  it,  sat  down,  and 
seemed  to  be  thinking.  The  table  carried  one  other 
evidence  of  civilized  ownership  besides  the  box  of 


A   DOG  MURDER.  Ig7 

tobacco.  Not  many  men  on  that  frontier  could 
have  made  more  out  of  that  small,  plainly  bound 
volume  than  did  the  strangely  visaged  Indian  who 
now  picked  it  up,  remarking, — 

"  Book.  Talk  to  Chumley.  See  if  talk  to  Red 
Beauty.  Heap  devil.  Big  lie.  Tell  how  make 
gun,  maybe.  Say  where  go  find  whiskey.  Look 
a  long  time." 

He  had  evidently  obtained,  in  some  way,  the 
idea  that  books  required  to  be  "  studied"  before 
they  would  speak,  and  he  was  willing  to  give  to 
that  copy  of  Homer's  Iliad,  in  the  original  Greek, 
all  the  study  required  to  make  it  tell  him  what  it 
knew  about  anything. 

He  studied  it  right  side  up,  wrong  side  up,  out- 
side, inside,  sidewise,  and  from  cover  to  cover. 
Every  now  and  then  a  disappointed  grunt  testified 
to  his  deficiency  in  Greek  literature.  It  was  an 
uncommon  case  of  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  under 
difficulties,  and  a  vast  amount  of  patience  was  ex- 
hibited as  time  went  on.  The  dogs  regarded  that 
sort  of  amusement  as  entirely  innocent,  and  went 
out  to  patrol  the  enclosure. 

The  ears  of  the  dusky  student  were  of  a  kind 
that  is  always  on  duty,  and  at  last  they  brought 
him  a  warning  that  made  him  lay  down  the  book. 

"  Ugh !  Horse  foot  come.  Shut  door.  Nobody 
in  house." 

He  closed  the  door  quickly,  and  pulled  out  the 


138  liED  BEAUTY. 

"  bung"  from  the  hole  in  the  middle  of  it,  just  as 
the  voices  of  the  dogs  announced  the  nearer  ap- 
proach of  a  horse  and  his  rider. 

"Ugh!  Jerry  McCord!  Come  say  'Payne.' 
Know  Chumley  gone.  Find  Red  Beauty  here,  kill 
him.  Nobody  here.  House  dead." 

It  was  Jerry,  fresh  from  his  terrible  experience  at 
the  Munro  camp,  and  red-hot  with  vengeance.  He 
himself  could  hardly  have  explained  why  he  had 
ridden  around  by  way  of  Chumley's  house,  unless 
it  had  been  with  a  vague  idea  of  burning  it,  with 
all  that  it  contained.  He  reined  in  his  horse  for  one 
moment  at  the  gate,  and  the  two  beautiful  animals 
on  the  inside  arose  with  their  forepaws  on  its  bars, 
barking  at  him  in  the  most  friendly  manner.  They 
were  glad  to  see  somebody,  and  may  have  been 
telling  him  that  their  master  was  away. 

There  are  depths  of  meanness  and  cruelty  in  the 
hearts  of  some  beings  who  are  nominally  human. 
Jerry  McCord  believed  himself  unseen,  or  he  would 
have  considered  the  matter  before  acting.  As  it 
was,  he  drew  his  revolver,  took  deliberate  aim,  and 
shot  the  stag-hound  through  the  head.  In  another 
instant  the  setter  lay  beside  him,  and  a  wretched 
act  of  cowardly  spite  was  completed. 

"  I'll  serve  your  master  in  the  same  way  yet !" 
he  shouted,  shaking  his  fist  at  the  house,  but  at 
that  moment  something  moved  in  the  middle  of 
the  door.  It  came  out  farther,  pointing  straight  at 


A   DOG  MURDER.  189 

him.  It  was  the  muzzle  of  a  double-barrelled  gun, 
and  Jerry's  horse  bounded  away  under  a  sudden 
dig  of  spurs  that  sent  him  galloping  up  the  road. 
He  was  out  of  range  in  a  moment,  and  the  gun 
did  not  go  off.  At  the  other  end  of  it  the  Red 
Beauty  was  exhausting  his  supply  of  English  words 
in  an  attempt  to  express  his  opinion  of  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord. 

"Heap  devil!  Shoot  dog!  Dog  himself!  White 
Pawnee  t'ief !  'Calp  a  mule !  Ugh !  Red  Beauty 
no  shoot  him.  Kill  him  other  time,  sure.  See 
Chumley  gun,  not  know  him.  Not  show  him  Red 
Beauty  rifle,  tell  him  who  here." 

That  was  the  fact,  and  Jerry  rode  away  without 
a  suspicion  concerning  the  garrison  of  Chumley's 
house.  He  only  carried  with  him  a  vivid  under- 
standing that  he  had  narrowly  escaped  a  charge  of 
buckshot,  dangerous  at  fifty  yards,  and  that  Chum- 
ley  would  know  who  had  killed  his  two  dogs. 

"  He  will  raise  the  country  on  me  now,"  he  said. 
"He  can  gather  a  score  of  men  if  he  tries,  and 
they'd  make  short  work  of  us.  Most  of  'em  have 
lost  horses  one  time  or  another.  "We  must  move 
out  of  this,  short  order,  but  I'll  come  back  for  her. 
Chumley  '11  die  about  that  time,  or  I'm  mistaken. 
No  time  to  lose  in  moving  our  camp." 

It  came  out  disjointedly,  and  mingled  with  pro- 
fane explosions  of  vengeful  bitterness,  as  he  rode 
along,  but  that  was  the  sum  and  substance  of  it. 


190  RED   BEAUTY. 

"War  had  been  openly  declared  upon  both  sides, 
and  there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  determina- 
tion with  which  it  would  be  carried  on. 

For  a  few  minutes  after  Jerry's  departure,  Chum- 
ley  was  able  to  direct  the  attention  of  Mr.  Munro 
and  Perry  and  Uncle  John  to  the  posts  and  holes, 
mainly  because  they  were  like  him  and  wished  to 
collect  their  ideas  in  silence. 

Then  they  broke  out  in  a  storm  of  questionings 
concerning  Indians,  horse-thieves,  and  other  pests 
of  the  border,  and  there  was  more  than  a  little  to 
tell.  It  was  a  curious  fact,  but  the  manner  in 
which  Jerry  had  wilted  before  Chumley's  derringer 
had  fully  established  their  confidence  in  the  latter. 
They  were  ready  to  credit  whatsoever  he  might 
tell  them. 

Ghistav  Eagleson  had  not  said  a  word,  neither 
had  he  as  yet  done  anything  especial  for  the  new 
house.  He  had  fully  comprehended  that  this  driven 
thief  was  the  stranger  who  had  accosted  Erica  in 
the  forest,  and  the  blood  of  the  sea-kings  was  play- 
ing fire  in  all  his  veins.  A  fall  supply  of  it  was  in 
his  face,  and  its  expression  of  intense  wrath  was 
worth  looking  at.  He  was  a  man  of  peace  and 
knew  not  how  to  swear,  but  he  was  an  exceedingly 
angry  father,  and  the  very  curls  of  his  tawny  beard 
seemed  to  bristle  with  a  purpose  of  no  good  to 
Jerry  McCord. 

There  had  been  genuine  delicacy  in  Chumley's 


A   DOG  MURDER.  191 

leaving  the  ladies  by  themselves,  and  they  promptly 
made  the  distance  greater  between  them  and  the 
group  of  men. 

"  Jessie,"  said  her  mother,  "  we  shall  know  all 
Chumley  tells  them.  Come  along.  This  is  dread- 
ful!" 

Mrs.  Eagleson  was  even  eager  to  tell  all  she  knew, 
while  Erica  hid  her  innocent  face  in  her  hands. 
Jessie  heard  with  kindling  eyes,  and  all  Jerry's 
ideal  prospect  of  creating  jealousy  between  her 
and  Erica  had  vanished  by  the  time  she  was 
mentally  ready  to  exclaim, — 

"  Is  it  possible !     And  he  a  horse-thief!" 

Jerry  lost  the  entire  teaching  of  the  shudder  sent 
after  him  by  the  two  beautiful  beings  with  whom 
he  was  in  love,  and  it  was  a  pity,  considering  how 
deep  a  lesson  it  had  for  him. 

That  was  a  moment  of  mutual  confidences,  and 
even  for  hasty  speech,  since  Mrs.  Munro  herself 
suddenly  asked, — 

"  Where  does  Mrs.  Chumley  live  ?" 

Erica  looked  at  her  with  inquiring  amazement, 
but  her  mother  flushed  hotly  and  responded, — 

"  We  live  with  him  four  year.  No  wife  at  all. 
Good  young  man." 

"  There !  It  was  one  of  that  rascal's  miserable 
falsehoods.  Don't  you  see,  Jessie  ?  He  tried  to  set 
us  against  him." 

"  He  is  wicked !"  exclaimed  Erica,  but  Jessie  was 


192  RED  BEAUTY. 

silent.  It  was  not  easy  to  reconcile  such  a  depth  of 
depravity  and  meanness  with  so  much  easy  polite- 
ness and  personal  good  looks.  Jessie  was  young 
yet,  and  this  was  her  first  discovered  villain. 

She  had  read  of  such  instances,  but  had  an  idea 
that  they  existed  only  in  the  heated  imaginations  of 
the  men  and  women  who  write  novels.  Now  she 
had  seen  one,  and  also,  for  the  first  time,  she  had 
seen  a  weapon  levelled  by  one  man  at  another  in 
deadly  earnest,  and  that  fact  came  to  her  lips  in  a 
general  question  addressed  to  nobody  in  particular : 

"  Would  Mr.  Chumley  have  killed  him  ?" 

"  Jessie,"  said  her  mother,  "  would  you  have  had 
him  get  out  his  pistol  and  shoot  Mr.  Chumley  ?  It 
would  have  been  no  murder  if  he  had " 

"  Oh,  mother !" 

No  doubt  it  was  something  dreadful  to  think  of, 
and  there  was  more  to  be  said  by  all,  but  right  in 
the  middle  of  it  they  saw  Chumley  go  and  get  his 
horse  and  mount  him  and  ride  away,  sending  them 
only  a  silent  bow  as  a  good-by.  Before  doing  so 
he  had  said  to  the  other  men, — 

"  Now  you  all  work  along.  I  want  to  see  how 
matters  are  going  on  over  at  my  house.  Nobody 
is  there  but  Red  Beauty." 

"  That  is,"  said  Perry,  "  if  he  is  there.  I  hope 
you  didn't  leave  any  blankets  lying  around." 

"  I  feel  pretty  sure  that  he  wouldn't  steal  from 
me.  As  for  your  blanket,  that's  nothing  against 


A  DOG  MURDER.  193 

him.  He  really  could  not  help  it.  Long  habit  is 
too  much  for  even  the  best  of  men." 

He  laughed  almost  merrily,  and  strode  away  to 
where  his  horse  was  waiting  to  be  saddled.  In  a 
minute  or  so  more  he  was  riding  swiftly  homeward. 
He  had  seen  Jerry  gallop  off  towards  the  woods, 
but  the  thought  had  come  to  him  that  there  was  no 
certainty  of  his  continuing  in  that  direction.  As 
he  drew  near  his  house  he  noted  instantly  its  shut- 
up  and  deserted  appearance,  and  exclaimed, — 

"  Where  is  that  old  red  rascal  ?  Where  are  the 
dogs  ?  He  cannot  have  stolen  them.  They  would 
not  follow  him  a  rod.  He  must  have  shut  them 
into  the  house  and  gone  away.  I  can't  see  his 
pony." 

That  animal  was  securely  hidden  behind  the 
house,  between  the  stable  and  the  kitchen,  and  in  a 
few  moments  more  Chumley  knew  why  his  dogs 
did  not  come  to  meet  him.  He  sent  his  horse  over 
the  fence  with  a  long  bound  and  wheeled  him  for 
a  look  at  the  two  favorites,  lying  side  by  side  on  the 
bloody  grass.  He  had  not  uttered  a  sound  when 
the  door  of  the  house  opened  and  the  Red  Beauty 
stepped  out ' 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  he  demanded,  in  a  voice 
that  was  husky  with  suppressed  passion. 

"  Mean  Jerry  McCord.  Put  gun  through  door 
and  scare  him  away.  No  see  Red  Beauty.  Only 

see  double  gun.     Ride  off." 
i      n  17 


194  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  "Why  didn't  you  Mil  him  ?" 

"Ugh!  Not  kill  him  here.  Not  by  Chumley 
house.  Somebody  come,  ask  old  Indian  who  kill 
him  ?  What  for  ?  Only  for  kill  dog  ?  Then  have 
to  hold  up  hand  and  say  *  Chumley  did  it.'  Bad  for 
Chumley.  Go  hung  for  shoot.  Meet  him  'nother 
place,  some  time." 

Chumley's  reason  folly  approved  of  the  old  man's 
prudence,  whatever  he  might  think  of  having  a 
murder  sworn  upon  himself. 

"  Either  of  those  dogs  was  worth  a  dozen  of  him. 
Tell  me  all  about  it.  I'm  glad  you  waited  till  I 
came." 

Red  Beauty  gave  a  foil  account  of  Jerry's  visit, 
and  explained  his  own  impression  that  his  life  was 
of  about  the  value  of  a  pipe  of  tobacco  in  any  con- 
venient meeting  with  Jerry  or  his  Pawnees. 

"Red  Beauty  good  Indian.  Too  good.  Kill 
him  like  dog  if  nobody  see.  Chumley  just  so.  See 
dog?  Ugh!  Chumley  that  one,  when  Jerry 
McCord  see  his  back." 

"  You're  right  there.  He  won't  be  here  again 
to-day,  anyhow.  Will  you  stay  here  till  sundown  ?" 

"  'Tay  all  while,  plenty  eat.  Plenty  smoke. 
Plenty  book." 

"Book?    What's  that?" 

He  had  already  dismounted,  and  now  led  the 
way  into  the  house.  His  first  glance  fell  upon  the 
volume  of  Homer,  but  he  was  still  too  angry  to 


CHANGES  OF  BASE.  195 

laugh.  He  took  the  matter  soberly,  and  told  the 
Eed  Beauty  to  read  as  much  Greek  as  he  had  a 
mind  to.  After  that  he  only  remained  long  enough 
to  start  a  fire  in  the  kitchen  stove. 

"  Good.  Ugh !"  said  the  Potawatamy.  "  Jerry 
not  kill  dog  if  saw  smoke  when  he  came." 

Chumley  nodded,  for  he  had  in  that  matter  neg- 
lected one  of  his  customary  precautions.  He  sprang 
into  the  saddle  once  more,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  eyes  of  Jessie  and  Erica  and  the  rest 
were  blazing  with  indignation  over  the  account  he 
gave  them  of  the  cruel  cowardice  of  Jerry  McCord's 
revenge.  Doubt  as  to  his  "  character"  had  utterly 
disappeared. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

CHANGES  OF  BASE. 

THE  entire  western  country,  as  fast  as  it  can  oe 
surveyed,  is  cut  up  on  the  government  maps  into 
"  sections"  of  one  mile  square.  Each  of  these  is 
supposed  to  contain  six  hundred  and  forty  acres, 
and  would  do  so  if  it  were  not  for  the  errors  of  sur- 
veyors and  for  the  fact  that  the  earth  is  round  and 
has  its  own  way  with  all  attempts  to  draw  straight 
lines  upon  it. 


196  RED   BEAUTY. 

The  Munros  had  bought  a  section  of  laud  to 
prosper  on,  and  it  began,  as  Chumley's  did,  at  the 
Post,  running  side  by  side  with  it  into  the  forest. 
He  had  vaguely  mentioned  other  tracts  of  land 
owned  by  him,  adjoining  at  the  south.  The 
"  quarter  section"  owned  by  the  Eaglesons  also 
claimed  the  Post  as  a  corner  landmark. 

The  spot  selected  for  the  Munro  camp  and  home- 
stead was  nearly  in  the  middle  of  their  square  mile 
of  fertility,  and  for  that  reason  there  was  a  pros- 
pect before  their  visitors  of  a  pleasant  walk  home 
after  supper.  That  meal  was  made  as  bright  a 
picnic  as  possible,  after  the  toil  and  excitement  of 
the  day.  Jessie  and  her  mother  did  their  best  to 
make  Chumley  forget  the  fate  of  his  dogs,  but  it 
was  Perry  who  decided  in  his  own  mind  that  hos- 
pitality demanded  of  him  to  see  his  guests  safely 
home. 

"  Chumley  will  ride,  of  course.  It'll  just  be  a 
nice  walk,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  when  he  men- 
tioned the  idea  to  Jessie,  she  replied,  promptly, — 

"  The  very  thing  we  ought  to  do.  I'll  walk  with 
Erica." 

There  was  something  of  sly  mischief  in  that  re- 
sponse, but  the  evening  walk  shaped  itself  differ- 
ently. The  shadows  were  reaching  out  into  the 
prairie  more  and  more  duskily,  when  at  last  Chum- 
ley whistled  to  his  horse  and  remarked  to  Mrs. 
Munro, — 


CHANGES   OF  BASE.  197 

u  Guatav  and  Mrs.  Eagleson  have  started.  Erica 
and  I  will  be  glad  of  company." 

The  horse  came  up  with  a  ready  obedience  which 
testified  that  he  was  in  no  need  of  bridle  or  spur. 
He  was  quite  capable  of  following  his  master  at  a 
short  distance,  and  knew  exactly  the  way  to  his  own 
stable  door.  His  master  was  every  way  equal  to 
the  occasion,  for  the  camp  was  only  a  few  rods  be- 
hind them  before  Jessie  found  herself  walking  in 
advance  with  Chumley,  while  her  brother  followed 
with  Erica.  Behind  them  marched  the  horse, 
and  all  around  them  raced  the  dogs. 

Perry  Munro  did  not  walk  far  before  he  dis- 
covered several  facts  concerning  his  companion,  for 
she  was  utterly  free  of  speech,  and  seemed  to  re- 
gard him  altogether  as  a  neighbor  and  a  desirable 
addition  to  the  population  of  that  prairie.  He 
found  that  she  had  formed  a  girlish  enthusiasm  for 
Jessie  and  a  great  admiration  for  his  mother.  Also 
that  before  either  of  them  came  she  had  learned  to 
regard  Mr.  Chumley  as  a  man  superior  to  other 
men,  to  be  looked  up  to  by  them  as  well  as  by 
herself.  Perry  had  as  yet  seen  nothing  wonderful 
about  him,  except  pluck  and  good  horsemanship, 
and  was  only  able  to  give  a  polite  assent  to  what 
she  had  to  say.  She  listened  with  keen  intelligence 
to  his  story  of  the  village  home  he  and  his  family 
had  left  behind  them  in  the  East.  She  had  a  start- 
ing-place to  speak  of,  much  farther  away,  and 

17* 


198  RED  BEAUTY. 

neither  of  them  knew  how  deftly  Jessie  had  been 
defeated  in  an  effort  to  draw  from  Mr.  Chumley  an 
idea  of  some  place  or  places  he  had  seen  before  he 
saw  that  prairie.  She  could  find  no  fault  with  any 
of  his  replies,  but  they  told  her  nothing  whatever, 
and  left  her  curiosity  in  a  state  of  unconsciously 
increasing  activity  concerning  the  history  he  had 
so  plain  an  intention  of  concealing.  She  gained  a 
dim  idea  that  he  had  travelled  and  that  he  was  well 
read,  and  another,  yet  more  dim,  that  he  was  read- 
ing her  as  they  walked.  He  said  as  much  to  him- 
self: 

"  I'm  a  stranger  to  her  yet.  There's  more  than 
that  in  her  mind  about  me.  She  will  make  a 
splendid  woman  yet.  How  that  strange  resem- 
blance does  grow  on  me !  Only  skin-deep,  but  I 
wish  it  had  not  come.  "Why  should  my  bitterest 
memory  settle  down  on  the  next  section  to  haunt 
me  here  ?  It  isn't  her  fault,  I  suppose." 

His  thoughts  were  dealing,  as  they  often  seemed 
to  be,  with  some  irritating  experience  of  his  old 
life.  However  they  were  connected  with  her  face, 
an  expression  of  them  crept  into  the  cool  politeness 
of  his  manner,  and  when  she  said, — 

"  Do  you  never  feel  lonely  out  here,  in  such  an 
utter  absence  of  society  ?" 

He  replied  with  needless  brevity, — 

"  Never !"  and  it  was  a  full  breathing  spell  before 
he  added :  "  I  cannot  say,  however,  how  glad  I  now 


CHANGES   OF  BASE.  199 

am  to  have  neighbors.  I  trust  that  we  shall  he 
good  friends." 

"  Is  not  this  the  Pawnee  Trail  ?"  she  remarked, 
striving  to  conceal  an  unaccountable  feeling  of  vex- 
ation. 

"  Yes.     Did  you  ever  see  a  string  of  beads  ?" 

"  Of  course." 

"Well,  this  is  a  string,  then,  with  wild  stories 
all  along  it  as  thick  as  beads." 

"  Terrible  tales,  no  doubt.  I'm  not  sure  I  wish 
to  hear  them.  Anyhow,  it  is  the  border  of  our 
land."  She  hesitated  one  second,  and  he  filled  up 
the  sentence  calmly : 

"And  you  will  not  venture  into  the  unknown 
country  called  Chumley's  land  until  to-morrow? 
We  shall  expect  you  at  supper-time." 

"  Thank  you,  we  have  quite  a  curiosity  about 
your  log  house.  I  was  never  in  one." 

At  that  moment  Perry  and  Erica  joined  them, 
and  four  voices  instead  of  two  went  through  the 
ceremony  of  separating  for  the  night  at  the  barrier 
drawn  by  the  old  buffalo-path. 

Chumley  and  Erica  walked  on  homeward,  and 
he  had  little  to  do  but  to  listen  to  her  comments 
upon  her  new  friends  and  the  great  and  small 
events  of  the  day. 

Jessie  was  almost  glad  that  her  brother  seemed 
disposed  to  silence.  There  had  been  talk  enough, 
and  she  was  trying  to  put  into  shape  the  cloudy 


200  RED   BEAUTY. 

unpleasantness  which  hovered  over  her  ideas  of 
Chumley. 

Perry  was  also  busy  with  a  cloudy  unpleasant- 
ness. He  was  very  young,  and  he  had  never  before 
seen  any  girl  one  half  so  beautiful,  in  his  eyes,  as 
Erica  Eagleson.  Young  men  have  a  faculty  all 
their  own  for  the  manufacture  of  angels  out  of 
very  human  material,  and  Perry  had  seen  his 
angel  walk  away  from  him  with  the  man  she  had 
been  so  enthusiastically  praising. 

So  it  was  that  they  told  each  other  they  were 
tired,  and  said  almost  nothing  more. 

They  had  by  no  means  forgotten  Jerry  McCord, 
although  he  still  came  up  in  Jessie's  mind  as  a  very 
good-looking  bad  man  named  Payne,  but  they  had 
no  idea  how  much  in  his  thoughts  they  themselves 
had  been  and  were  likely  to  be. 

When  Jerry  galloped  away  out  of  range  of  the 
gun  which  looked  at  him  through  Chumley's  front 
door,  he  did  not  ride  alone  by  any  means.  There 
was  no  second  horse,  but  with  him  on  his  own  there 
sat  a  shape  which  he  had  been  visited  by  before. 
He  had  put  it  away,  he  had  refused  to  see  it,  and 
now  here  it  was,  looking  at  him  with  every  pair  of 
human  eyes  he  had  seen  that  day,  while  it  whispered 
hissingly  in  his  ears  the  awful  fact  that  he  was  to 
all  intents  and  purposes  a  "branded  man."  He 
had  been  putting  brands  upon  himself  from  boy- 
hood, and  now  they  had  been  publicly  pointed  out. 


CHANGES  OF  BASE.  201 

Chumley  had  pointed  at  them,  before  Jessie  and 
before  Erica,  with  a  levelled  derringer  to  emphasize 
the  bitter  sincerity  of  his  pointing.  Jerry  had  no 
power  of  profane  speech  to  express  his  hatred  of 
that  man,  and  he  gave  it  up  with  grinding  teeth 
and  writhing  body. 

"  An  outlaw  ?"  he  said  at  last,  pulling  his  horse 
to  a  walk.  "  Not  so  bad  as  that.  They  can  prove 
nothing  against  me.  I  must  move  the  band  farther 
south.  "We  could  be  found  too  easily  where  we  are, 
now  Chumley's  blood  is  up.  It's  too  near,  anyhow, 
if  I'm  to  make  a  strike." 

What  kind  of  a  strike  he  was  meditating  did  not 
yet  take  on  a  perfect  form  in  his  tumultuous  mind. 

The  very  stab  given  to  his  vanity  in  the  presence 
of  those  four  women  had  stirred  another  emotional 
depth  remarkably.  He  had  been  in  love,  first  with 
Erica,  then  with  Jessie, — with  both  of  them, — in  a 
fever  of  fickle  selfishness,  but  in  a  way  that  would 
have  admitted  of  an  easy  remedy.  A  prettier  face ; 
a  richer  inheritance ;  a  brief  absence  among  other 
affairs;  an  attack  of  fever  and  ague;  might  have 
relieved  him  entirely  of  his  sudden  romance. 

It  was  not  so  now.  His  love  was  no  more  the 
same,  for  it  had  been  down  into  the  depths  of  his 
disgrace  and  wrath  with  him,  and  was  thenceforth 
as  deep  as  was  his  fiery  defiance  of  the  ruin  he  had 
brought  upon  himself.  It  was  a  passion  of  his 
entire  corrupt  being,  and  strong  as  life.  Vanity 


202  RED   BEAUTY. 

might  lead  him  after  this  to  pretend  love  to  Erica, 
in  spite  of  the  look  of  scorn  she  had  sent  him,  hut 
Ms  real  feeling  centred  stormily  upon  Jessie 
Munro.  Her  look,  in  the  moment  of  his  "branding, 
had  been  one  which  he  could  easily  misinterpret, 
for  she  had  not  had  Erica's  entire  confidence  in 
the  correctness  of  Chumley's  conduct.  She  had 
been  frightened  lest  "  Payne"  should  be  shot  down, 
and  she  had  felt  for  him  as  in  a  terrible  position. 
Her  face  had  strongly  disapproved  of  the  derringer, 
and  Jerry  easily  persuaded  himself  that  its  owner 
had  inwardly  taken  his  part.  All  was  black  within 
him  and  about  him  except  that  one  red  light  of 
passion,  and  it  was  the  best  thing  of  which  he  had 
left  himself  capable,  for  as  a  man  is  so  must  be  his 
love  for  woman. 

Jerry  rode  on  to  his  own  camp  without  stopping, 
for  his  plans  required  prompt  action.  The  report 
he  rendered  on  arriving  was  sufficiently  interesting 
without  being  too  exactly  truthful.  His  account  of 
his  adventures  in  the  Munro  camp  included  a  diffi- 
culty with  Chumley,  but  omitted  his  own  obedience 
to  that  gentleman's  forcible  dictation.  The  group 
of  red  listeners  were  well  prepared  to  believe  Jerry's 
statement  that  the  settlers  were  devising  evil  against 
them.  They  all  said,  "Ugh!  Good!"  when  he 
advised  an  immediate  removal.  The  killing  of 
Chumley's  dogs  was  approved,  with  suggestions  as 
to  all  the  other  canine  settlers  near  the  Post.  His 


CHANGES   OF  BASE.  £03 

or  any  other  horses  and  house  would  be  easier  of 
approach  after  the  completion  of  the  work  Jerry 
had  begun  so  well.  At  the  same  time  the  fort-like 
construction  of  that  home  and  stable  was  evidently 
understood. 

As  to  removal,  there  was  no  reason  for  lingering 
in  one  valley  rather  than  in  another,  and  they  were 
now  all  sober  enough  to  hear  arguments  based  upon 
angry  frontiersmen  out  after  horse-thieves. 

JSTo  further  mention  was  made  of  the  brave  so 
mysteriously  "wiped  out."  Whoever  had  killed 
him,  it  was  not  a  matter  of  sufficient  importance 
for  further  investigation.  Dead  and  buried  and  for- 
gotten was  he,  and  what  other  record  could  there 
be  of  the  end  of  such  lives  as  his  and  theirs?  He 
had  not  even  been  the  owner  of  a  squaw,  and  his 
comrades  could  divide  among  themselves  his  other 
chattels,  with  some  help  from  a  pack  of  cards. 

Jerry  insisted  that  even  the  "  braves"  should 
work,  and  the  lodges  went  down  while  the  squaws 
were  "  packing,"  but  two  rude  huts  were  left  stand- 
ing. The  entire  party  was  following  the  Pawnee 
Trail  westward  before  the  middle  of  the  ^afternoon, 
and  it  looked  well  for  the  settlers  at  Chumley's 
Post.  It  also  looked  as  if  Jerry  and  his  Pawnees 
were  riding  to  suit  the  United  States  authorities 
and  cavalry  commanders,  until  they  suddenly  left 
the  Trail  and  turned  southerly  among  the  woods 
and  hills.  Their  camp  that  night  was  a  reasonably 


204  RED  BEAUTY. 

close  copy  of  the  one  they  had  left,  and  no  more 
easily  to  be  discovered. 

"  I  can  strike  Chumley  just  as  well  from  here," 
said  Jerry  McCord  to  himself;  "  but  I  won't  bring 
Jessie  here.  I've  money  enough.  If  I'm  not  mis- 
taken, she'll  agree  with  me  that  we  had  better  make 
a  trip  to  the  settlements  and  leave  all  this  thing  be- 
hind us.  I'll  sell  stock  and  get  things  together,  and 
buying  land  is  easy  enough." 

Very  remarkable  stuff  were  his  dreams  made  of, 
but  they  set  his  blood  on  fire  and  made  his  wild 
heart  beat  strongly,  for  the  worst  of  men  is  never- 
theless a  man. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

STIRRING  AN  OLD  STORY. 

THE  very  demon  of  work  had  possessed  the 
Munro  family  during  that  first  day  of  house-build- 
ing, and  seemed  likely  to  remain  among  them. 
There  was  not  much  of  the  patent  house,  but  all 
its  parts  were  there,  ready  to  be  fitted,  and  they 
w^ent  together  as  if  by  magic.  Five  men  and  four 
women  had  made  somewhat  too  strong  a  force  for 
so  narrow  a  field  of  operation.  The  women  could 
bring  boards  and  other  wood-work  faster  than  the 


STIRRING  AN  OLD  STORY.  £05 

men  could  find  out  where  to  put  them.  Gustav 
Eagleson  had  proved  himself  a  master  of  his  tools, 
and  had  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  thing  with  a 
cheerfulness  which  made  his  white  teeth  visible 
half  the  tune.  Uncle  John  had  been  so  carefully 
guided  that  he  had  actually  done  no  harm  whatever. 

When  the  promised  form  of  the  whole  structure 
began  to  appear,  Chumley  had  been  justified  in 
remarking, — 

"  It's  big  enough  for  a  kitchen,  but  all  your  other 
rooms  had  better  be  of  logs.  When  this  is  fastened 
to  'em  it  won't  blow  away." 

There  had  been  a  general  assent  to  that  as  well 
as  to  Gustav's  assertion, — 

"  It  ees  too  small  for  so  many." 

It  had  not  been  ready  for  any  one  to  sleep  in 
that  night. 

When  Chumley  and  the  Eaglesons  reached  the 
house  in  which  they  intended  to  sleep,  they  found 
something  waiting  for  them.  The  house  indeed 
was  empty,  but  the  Potawatamy  garrison  had 
amused  himself  in  his  own  way  before  moving  out. 

Even  when  the  noonday  sun  had  informed  Red 
Beauty  that  it  was  dinner-time,  it  had  found  him 
busy  with  a  new  idea. 

He  had  made  coffee  before,  and  there  was  nothing 
wonderful  in  his  putting  the  coffee-pot  upon  the 
stove  in  the  kitchen.  He  had,  however,  seen  the 

dinner-tables  of  pale-faces  in  his  day.     He  had  sat 

18 


206  RED  BEAUTY. 

by  more  than  one  after  better  skill  had  furnished 
it,  but  now  it  was  necessary  for  his  dignity  that  the 
table  in  the  front  room  should  be  set,  and  his  own 
hands  had  to  set  it. 

It  was  set  uncommonly,  for  he  transferred  to  it 
every  article  of  crockery  that  he  could  lay  his  hands 
on.  There  was  no  disputing  but  what  he  had  pro- 
duced a  strikingly  effective  table  when  he  had 
finished  his  work. 

The  ample  supply  of  cooked  victuals  left  for  him 
was  all  there,  sitting  beside  the  coffee-pot  upon  a 
brightly  colored  hearth-rug.  The  pipkins  and  other 
earthenware  had  an  air  as  if  they  were  asking  of 
each  other, — 

"  Are  we  in  a  lunatic  asylum  or  are  we  not  ?" 

JN"o  smile  nickered  on  the  lips  of  the  old  Indian, 
even  after  he  had  pulled  to  the  table  all  the  chairs 
in  the  room  and  sat  down  in  one  of  them. 

"  Ugh !"  he  said.     "  Great  chief.     Heap  eat." 

The  eating  of  that  solitary  meal  was  a  prolonged, 
grave,  and  dignified  performance,  and  so  was  the 
smoke  which  followed  it,  but  Red  Beauty  was  aware 
that  the  work  of  clearing  away  belonged  to  squaws 
only.  He  had  condescended  to  put  those  things 
where  they  were,  but  he  would  lower  himself  no 
further. 

"  Great  chief  no  stay  in  house  after  heap  eat,"  he 
said.  "  Go  look  for  Pawnee." 

His  pony  had  also  fed  well  and  was  ready  for 


STIRRING  AN  OLD  STORY.  207 

activities.  In  a  few  minutes  Chumley's  garrison 
was  transformed  into  a  scouting  expedition,  can- 
tering towards  the  woods. 

That  was  the  reason  why  even  Chumley  was 
compelled  to  join  Gustav  and  his  wife  and  daughter 
in  the  fun  they  had  the  moment  they  lighted  a 
candle  and  could  see  what  was  before  them  in  the 
front  room. 

Night  and  sleep  came  to  every  house  and  camp 
on  the  prairie  and  among  the  hills,  but  the  June 
darknesses  are  short,  and  the  morning  came  quickly 
with  new  experiences. 

Perry  Munro  had  one  that  was  all  his  own. 
Bob  had  been  left  on  guard,  with  Chumley's  assur- 
ance that  no  other  would  be  needed  so  soon  after 
unmasking  the  reality  of  "  Mr.  Payne,"  and  all  of 
Bob's  weary  human  friends  had  slept  pretty  well. 
He  came  with  the  earliest  daylight  to  stir  up  Perry, 
and  the  cat  was  the  only  other  person  awake  when 
the  young  man  stood  by  what  there  was  of  the 
patent  house  and  looked  around  him. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  as  if  I'd 
been  in  a  sort  of  dream  ever  since  we  set  out  to 
come  "West.  I'd  hardly  believe  it  was  real  now  if 
it  wasn't  for  what  I  see.  Here's  the  house.  There 
are  the  horses  and  cattle.  Glad  they're  all  there. 
The  wagons  and  Jemima  and  the  pigs.  I  know 
who  are  in  the  tents,  and  I  know  we  chopped  in  that 
timber.  All  the  rest  is  a  good  deal  like  a  dream 


208  RED   BEAUTY. 

yet.  Chumley,  and  Jerry  McCord,  and  Red 
Beauty, — Pawnees,  horse-thieves,  pistols,  deer, — 
there'll  be  venison  for  breakfast,  too.  Erica  ?  Oh, 
but  isn't  she  beautiful !  She's  too  good  for  such  a 
man  as  Chumley." 

Bob  stretched  himself  and  yawned  just  then, 
and  his  master  remarked  to  him, — 

"  Lost  your  sleep,  did  you  ?  Well,  you  can  rest 
all  day.  We're  all  going  over  to  Chumley's  by 
and  by,  and  we'll  know  more  about  him  and  his 
way  of  living." 

That  thought  and  another  concerning  breakfast 
helped  make  the  world  around  him  yet  more  real, 
but  all  the  peculiar  enthusiasm  of  Western  life  was 
beginning  to  bubble  up  within  him,  and  he  felt  the 
magic  of  the  prairie  without  knowing  as  yet  what 
it  might  be.  By  the  time  he  had  attended  to  his 
live-stock  and  set  the  fire  agoing,  the  rest  of  the 
family  were  up  and  busy. 

So  were  Erica  and  her  mother,  over  at  Chum 
ley's.  They  were  to  spend  the  day  at  home  while 
Gustav  should  be  at  work  on  the  new  house. 
Chumley  himself  awoke  with  a  feeling  of  some 
curiosity  as  to  what  had  become  of  Red  Beauty, 
but  no  guess  of  his  hit  the  exact  whereabouts  of 
the  old  Indian. 

There  was  as  yet  only  a  dusky  glimmer  of  light 
upon  the  hills  above  the  secluded  valley  where  the 
camp  of  Jerry's  Pawnees  had  been,  when  some- 


STIRRING  AN  OLD  STORY.  209 

thing  like  a  shadow  began  to  pass  from  tree  to  tree 
and  from  bush  to  bush. 

"  Time  for  dog  to  bark.  Ugh !  No  dog.  Paw- 
nee gone  ?  Heap  fool  stay.  Jerry  say  go." 

On  he  went  from  one  cover  to  another,  patiently 
awaiting  and  hearkening  the  voices  of  the  canine 
watchers  who  were  not  there  to  watch.  His  con- 
viction of  the  facts  of  the  case  must  have  been 
strong  to  have  nerved  him  to  such  an  intrusion, 
and  he  gave  a  great  grunt  of  relief  when  at  last 
they  were  justified.  He  consumed,  even  then,  a 
full  half-hour  of  the  stealthiest  creeping  and  dodg- 
ing in  perfectly  satisfying  his  mind  that  Jerry  and 
his  fellows  had  departed  and  in  what  direction.  It 
was  easy  to  follow  the  traces  they  had  left,  out  to 
their  disappearance  in  the  well-trodden  ruts  of  the 
Pawnee  Trail.  That  work  securely  done,  the  Red 
Beauty  gave  vent  to  his  suppressed  feelings  in  a 
series  of  ear-splitting  whoops,  and  trudged  rapidly 
back  through  the  woods  to  the  spot  where  he  had 
hidden  his  pony.  There  was  no  more  need  for 
hiding,  and  he  galloped  back  to  Chumley's  in  time 
to  tell  him, — 

"  Say  to  young  white  squaw  Jerry  McCord  gone. 
Payne  gone.  Pawnee  gone.  Come  'teal  her  some 
time.  Red  Beauty  eat  a  heap." 

He  explained  himself  fully,  and  Mrs.  Eagleson 
declared,  in  Swedish,  that  she  would  cook  for  him 

till  noon  to  pay  for  such  news  as  that, 
o  18* 


210  RED  BEAUTY. 

He  had  already  earned  an  appetite  by  it,  but 
greater  results  were  to  come. 

Chumley  had  something  worth  while  to  carry 
to  the  Munro  camp,  and  he  reached  it  on  horse- 
back before  Gustav  got  there  on  foot.  There  was 
a  distinct  variation  in  the  tone  and  manner  of  every 
greeting  given  him,  and  every  shade  of  heartiness 
or  reserve  meant  more  than  he  knew,  for  nobody 
had  told  him  of  any  report  concerning  his  past  or 
present. 

Uncle  John  himself  expressed  the  uppermost 
curiosity  of  that  camp. 

"  Mr.  Chumley,"  he  asked,  "  have  you  heard 
anything  more  of  your  friend  Payne  ?" 

"  Pawnee  —  devil  —  Potawatamy,"  came  from 
Poll's  cage,  hanging  near,  and  the  highly-com- 
plexioned  bird  had  introduced  the  next  subject  of 
general  interest. 

"Hullo,  Poll,"  said  Chumley,  "you've  learned  a 
new  word.  No,  Mr.  Munro,  but  I've  good  reason 
to  hope  that  he  and  his  gang  have  moved  away. 
All  the  horses  are  safer  if  it  is  so." 

"  Hope  he's  gone,"  said  Uncle  John,  and  it  saved 
the  rest  from  making  farther  remarks  while  Chum- 
ley dismounted. 

Poll  alone  persisted  in  repeating, — 

"  Potawatamy,"  and  the  syllables  fitted  his 
leathery  throat  precisely. 

Mrs.  Munro  said  quietly  to  Perry, — 


STIRRING  AN  OLD  STORY.  211 

"  He's  not  going  to  tell  all  he  knows.  I  can  see 
that  in  his  face.  Maybe  he  will  say  more  to  you." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  like  him  or  not,"  said 
Perry.  "  Too  bossy  altogether." 

The  half-satirical  smile  of  his  mother  expressed 
her  comprehension  of  the  fact  that  Chumley  was 
not  the  only  "  positive  character"  at  hand. 

He  had  now  come  nearer,  and  she  asked  him, — 

"  Have  you  seen  Red  Beauty  ?" 

"  Early  this  morning,  but  I  can't  say  where  he  is 
now.  He  brought  the  news  from  Jerry  and  sent  a 
message  to  Miss  Munro." 

"  What  is  it,  Mr.  Chumley  ?"  Jessie  had  joined 
them  just  in  time  to  get  the  Potawatamy's  queer 
prophecy,  faithfully,  word  for  word.  Before  she 
had  fully  recovered  from  the  assurance  that  she 
would  some  day  be  stolen  by  the  Pawnees,  and 
while  she  was  considering  what  to  say,  the  messen- 
ger himself  managed  to  bury  the  whole  subject  in 
some  remarks  to  Perry  about  farming  affairs,  in- 
cluding prairie  hay  and  ploughing. 

Gustav  arrived,  and  Mrs.  Munro  walked  away  to 
hear  what  he  proposed  to  do  with  the  patent  house, 
just  as  Perry  responded  to  some  suggestions  re- 
lating to  live-stock : 

"  That's  all  very  well,  Jmt  what's  the  use  of  rais- 
ing horses  and  mules  to  have  them  run  off  by 
thieves  ?  You  couldn't  even  sell  the  hay  after  they 
were  gone." 


212  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  I've  been  looking  out  for  that,"  said  Chumley. 
"  I've  promised  Red  Beauty  to  feed  him  all  next 
winter  if  he'll  scout  around  between  this  settle- 
ment and  any  molestation.  Never  mind  about 
that  blanket  business.  Treat  him  well." 

"  But  can  you  trust  him  ?"  said  Perry,  thoughts 
fully.  "  He's  an  Indian." 

"  You  mean  that  he  will  lie  and  steal  ?  Well,  he 
will  and  he  won't.  He's  an  old  scalper,  and  you 
mustn't  ask  too  much  of  him.  I've  known  him  a 
long  time.  One  thing  in  him  you  can  trust, — he 
hates  a  Pawnee,  and  he  believes  Jerry  McCord 
intends  to  have  him  killed.  Besides,  he  is  fond  of 
tobacco,  and  will  keep  on  good  terms  with  my 
caddy-full." 

"  He  ought  to  be  a  good  scout." 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you  and  Miss  Munro.  He 
was  actually  in  Jerry  McCord's  camp  before  sun- 
rise this  morning.  He  found  that  it  had  been 
abandoned  last  evening.  That's  one  reason  I'm 
here  to-day  and  not  away  raising  a  squad  of  men 
to  clear  out  the  gang." 

"  Mr.  Chumley,"  said  Jessie,  "  will  you  tell  us, 
frankly,  is  there  any  real  danger  ?" 

"  I  think  not.  Surely  not  so  much  as  formerly. 
Five  men  are  safer  than  two.  When  I  came  here, 
four  years  ago,  the  cavalry  had  to  do  some  pretty 
sharp  work." 

Jessie  colored  deeply  as  she  responded, — 


STIRRING  AN  OLD  STORY.  213 

"  Red  Beauty  said  you  killed  a  man  and  scalped 
him  and  buried  him  under  Chumley's  Post." 

She  was  looking  him  in  the  face  as  if  she  more 
than  half  believed  it,  and  what  she  saw  there  aston- 
ished her,  so  strong  a  shudder  went  over  him  and 
so  sudden  a  whiteness  came  under  the  healthy 
bronze. 

"  You  must  have  misunderstood  him,  Miss 
Munro,  but  the  truth  of  that  matter  is  no  secret. 
Ask  Erica.  Now  you've  heard  part,  you  may  as 
well  know  all.  I  did  not  scalp  anybody,  but 
Chumley's  Post  is  a  sort  of  tombstone.  There's  a 
graveyard  all  along  the  Pawnee  Trail." 

"  How  was  it?"  asked  Perry,  bluntly. 

"  Let  Gustav  tell  all  he  knows,  or  Mrs.  Eagleson. 
Pd  rather  not  say  much." 

"  Was  it  so  very  terrible  ?"  said  Jessie. 

"Did  they  tell  you  about  the  grove  and  the 
spring,  where  their  house  is  to  be  built  ?" 

"  I'm  going  over  there  with  Erica  as  soon  as  1 
have  time." 

"  She  may  tell  you  how  it  was  when  you  get 
there.  I  had  to  carry,  with  a  horse  to  help  me, 
out  of  that  grove  to  the  hole  I  dug  at  the  Post 
five  dead  bodies,  all  scalped  and  bloody.  Now,  is 
that  a  pleasant  thing  to  remember?  I've  seen  a 
scalping-knife  lifted  over  Erica's  head.  Jerry 
McCord  killed  one  of  the  very  dogs  that  saved  her. 
I've  seen  Mrs.  Eagleson  wrestling  with  a  Pawnee 


214  RED  BEAUTY. 

while  her  husband  was  being  murdered  before  her 
eyes." 

"  He  wasn't  murdered !"  exclaimed  Jessie. 

"  It  was  near  enough.  But  I'd  as  lief  not  talk 
about  it  just  now.  It  was  the  very  last  thing  of 
the  kind  in  this  region.  They  were  in  camp  and 
I'd  just  got  here.  All  would  be  peaceful  enough 
but  for  such  white  devils  as  Jerry  McCord." 

His  desire  to  change  the  subject  was  strongly 
evident,  and  the  deep  feeling  of  respect  for  him 
which  grew  upon  them  rapidly  was  aided  by  his 
refusal  to  recite  exploits  of  his  own  doing. 

"  I'm  almost  sorry  we  came,"  said  Jessie,  with  a 
half  shiver. 

"No  need  of  that,"  replied  he.  "The  village 
you  came  from  was  Indian  ground  once.  Perhaps 
there  are  Jerry  McCords  in  it  now.  You'd  never 
know  them.  I  must  be  off." 

"  Didn't  you  mean  to  stay  and  keep  us  company 
to-day  ?"  said  Perry. 

"  I'm  not  needed.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  the  news 
and  make  sure  you  were  coming  to  supper.  Mrs. 
Eagleson  and  Erica  are  making  preparations." 

He  had  a  knack  for  getting  away  from  disagree- 
able subjects,  and  he  did  not  mean  to  face  Mrs. 
Munro  and  her  husband  and  Uncle  John  upon  the 
history  of  the  graveyard  at  the  Post.  His  move- 
ments were  more  brisk  than  usual  until  he  was 
once  more  on  horseback. 


STIRRING  AN  OLD   STORY.  215 

"  Jessie,"  said  Perry,  "  I  wonder  what  on  earth 
is  the  matter  with  that  fellow  ?  He's  no  common 
sort  of  man." 

"  He  doesn't  look  exactly  like  a  bad  man." 

"  Guess  he  can  shoot  straight.  I'll  be  good  to 
Red  Beauty.  I  want  to  hear  his  part  of  that  story. 
Five  dead  bodies !  Must  have  been  an  awful  fight. 
I  believe  I  could " 

"Nonsense,  Perry!"  she  exclaimed,  as  he  hesi- 
tated. "  You  don't  need  to  kill  anybody." 

Nevertheless  her  sisterly  eyes  admired  his  stal- 
wart proportions  and  resolute  face  none  the  less 
because  they  made  her  also  "  believe  that  he  could," 
in  case  of  need.  Curiously  enough,  however,  there 
came  between  his  face  and  hers  a  flashing  memory 
of  the  day  before, — of  two  men  facing  each  other. 
One  held  a  derringer  pistol,  into  the  muzzle  of  which 
the  other  looked,  and  Jessie  understood  that  even 
the  outlaw  had  not  been  "  cowed."  He  had  ridden 
away  from  certain  death,  but  would  have  preferred 
fighting  if  any  chance  had  been  given  him.  She 
was  learning  some  things  about  men  and  manhood 
which  she  had  never  even  thought  of  up  to  that 
hour.  She  had  no  time  for  much  dreaming  before 
Perry  said, — 

"  "Whatever  else  I  do  I'm  going  to  practise  rifle- 
shooting.  Yes,  and  every  other  kind  of  shoot- 
ing  " 

"  So  will  I,"  interrupted  Jessie. 


216  fiED  BEAUTY. 

"  Father  can  hardly  use  a  gun,  and  Uncle  John 
'11  never  kill  anybody  unless  he  does  it  profession- 
ally." 

"  I  could  learn  to  shoot  as  well  as  any  man,  1 
know  I  could." 

"  Of  course.  It's  easy  enough.  But  we  must  ask 
Gustav  about  the  fight  in  the  grove." 

It  was  dinner-time  before  he  gave  them  an  op- 
portunity to  do  that,  and  then  they  were  disap- 
pointed. Either  he  could  not,  or  believed  Chumley 
wished  him  not  to  do  so,  and  all  they  obtained  was 
an  assurance  that  he  was  stabbed  with  a  knife  and 
knocked  down  with  a  club  and  did  not  kill  anybody 
or  know  anything  of  what  was  done. 

"  Chumley  put  me  in  wagon  and  bring  me  away. 
I  get  well.  Then  I  get  mad  when  he  pay  me  for 
work.  I  do  something  for  that  man  some  day." 


SUPPER  AT  CRUMLEY'S.  217 


CHAPTER    XXL 

STJPPEK  AT  CHUMLEY'S. 

CHUMLEY  was  in  no  apparent  hurry  to  reach,  his 
own  house.  He  seemed  even  willing  to  ride  to  the 
woods  and  back,  along  the  Trail,  as  if  he  needed  to 
do  some  thinking  in  the  saddle.  He  brought  his 
horse  to  a  walk  as  he  wheeled  out  of  the  tree- 
shadows  to  return,  and  there  was  a  pained,  doubtful 
look  upon  his  face. 

""Women,"  he  said  to  himself,  "have  curious 
notions  about  such  matters.  I've  known  women 
who  would  have  called  it  murder.  "What  is  it  to 
me,  anyhow?  No,  all  that  is  too  late  now.  It 
would  be  if  she  were  ten  times  more  beautiful. 
Besides,  women  go  for  handsome  men.  Fellows 
like  Jerry  McCord.  Or  for  rank  and  station  and 
titles  and  big  incomes.  Don't  I  know  ?  I've  had 
my  lesson.  No  more  gall  and  wormwood  for  me. 
I've  had  enough." 

There  must  have  been  some  in  his  mouth  at  that 
moment,  if  a  just  opinion  could  be  based  upon  its 
bitter  expression.  He  said  something  more  about 
the  graveyard  at  the  Post  and  about  the  story  Jes- 
sie would  hear  from  Erica,  and  about  his  murdered 

K  19 


218  RED   BEAUTY. 

dogs  and  their  value  as  compared  with  Jerry  Me- 
Cord,  and  then  he  rode  slowly  on  homeward. 

There  was  more  than  usual  activity  in  Chumley's 
kitchen  that  morning,  for  Erica  and  her  mother 
expected  critical  eyes  to  look  upon  their  house- 
keeping, and  their  pride  applied  spurs.  The  whole 
house  had  so  particular  a  look  before  dinner-time 
that  Red  Beauty  refused  to  smoke  in  it,  and  took 
his  continuous  pipe  out  of  doors.  He  knew  that 
there  was  a  feast  coming.  The  table  for  supper 
would  surely  be  set  without  his  assistance,  but  no 
consideration  would  have  prevented  him  from  re- 
maining to  see  how  it  would  look.  He  was  also 
aware  that  a  mysterious  amount  of  pale-face  cookery 
was  going  forward,  taxing  to  the  uttermost  the  re- 
sources of  the  kitchen  stove.  He  had  himself  con- 
tributed some  prairie-chickens,  and  Chumley  had 
added  some  quail,  although  it  was  not  yet  "  the  sea- 
son" for  either.  The  old  Indian  knew  what  these 
were  for,  but  he  could  not  guess  what  the  two  white 
squaws  were  doing  with  so  much  flour  and  water 
and  fire  and  all  the  odd  materials  that  were  on  the 
table.  There  were  hiding-places  he  had  not  thought 
of  in  and  under  that  house,  and  out  of  these,  that 
afternoon,  came  crockery  and  table  furniture  which 
had  waited  long  for  "  company."  Some  of  it  sug- 
gested prosperity  quite  pointedly,  but  the  two 
women  were  hardly  prepared  for  another  sugges- 
tion that  was  at  last  made. 


SUPPER  AT  CRUMLEY'S.  219 

Red  Beauty  followed  Chumley  into  the  house 
while  they  were  setting  the  table  and  pointed  at  it. 

"Ugh!  Good !"  said  he.  "  Where  Chumley 'teal 
'email?" 

"  Found  them,"  laughed  Chumley.  "  Got  them 
of  some  Potawatamies." 

"  Ugh !  Young  black  eye  squaw  come.  See 
table.  Say  Chumley  'teal  a  heap." 

"  I  hope  they  will  come,"  said  Chumley.  "  If  I 
stay  here,  I'll  have  the  right  kind  of  house,  some 
day,  and  of  dinner-table.  If  the  railway  comes, 
and  markets,  and  I  can  get  all  my  land  under  cul- 
tivation." 

He  did  not  say  that  directly  to  the  Indian,  and 
received  only  "  Ugh !"  for  answer,  but  there  was 
something  stirring  him  up.  He  was,  just  then, 
looking  forward  for  the  very  "  civilization"  whose 
arrival  he  had  hitherto  dreaded.  He  also  appeared 
to  sympathize  with  Mrs.  Eagleson's  housewifely 
anxiety  concerning  the  success  of  what  Red  Beauty 
called  his  "  heap  eat." 

There  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  coming  of  the 
Munro  family.  One  and  all  they  had  become 
infected  by  a  strong  curiosity  concerning  their 
neighbor  and  his  possessions. 

Uncle  John,  in  particular,  had  been  dwelling 
upon  what  he  had  heard  and  seen  until  some  of 
his  ideas  tripped  each  other  up  and  impelled  him 
to  say  to  his  brother,  but  in  the  hearing  of  all, — 


220  RED   BEAUTY. 

"  No  doubt  Payne  is  a  horse-thief,  and  I'm  sorry 
for  him,  but  it  is  plain  to  me  that  Chumley  is  jeal- 
ous of  him.  Payne  is  by  all  odds  the  better-look- 
ing man  of  the  two,  but  the  Eagleson  girl  should 
have  some  common  sense.  Now  Payne  is  driven 
off  there  will  be  nobody  in  Chumley's  way,  and 
I'm  glad  of  it." 

Uncle  John  often  said  funny  things,  but  he  had 
rarely  been  rewarded  with  more  laughter  than 
replied  to  all  that  wisdom. 

Jessie  laughed  without  knowing  why,  and  noticed 
that  Perry  laughed  very  hard  indeed  and  seemed 
to  do  so  with  an  especial  effort.  She  did  not  give 
Uncle  John  an  opportunity  for  further  improve- 
ment of  his  text,  but  remarked  to  her  mother, — 

"  It's  about  time  for  us  to  go.  Shall  we  ride  or 
walk?" 

"  "Walk,  of  course,"  exclaimed  Perry.  "  Who 
wants  a  horse  for  such  a  distance  ?" 

Walk  they  did,  but  when  they  reached  the  Paw- 
nee Trail  they  found  themselves  waited  for.  It  was 
Red  Beauty's  first  meeting  with  Perry  since  the 
affair  with  Bob  and  the  blanket,  but  the  old  Indian's 
dignified  "  How"  evinced  no  disturbing  memory  of 
any  such  trivial  incident.  He  spoke  to  each  in  turn 
with  a  shake  of  the  hand  as  if  he  were  their  host, 
bidding  them  welcome.  Then  he  waved  his  hand 
southerly,  remarking, — 

"  Chumley  land.     Long  walk." 


SUPPER  AT  CHUMLErS.  221 

"  He  has  more  of  it  fenced  in  than  I  thought  for, 
father,"  said  Perry.  "  Corn,  oats,  clover,  vines, 
young  orchard,  pasture-land.  It's  all  one  man  need 
care  for." 

"He  spoke  of  selling  out  and  moving  farther 
west,  Perry." 

"  Ugh ! "  exclaimed  the  old  Indian.  ' '  No  go.  All 
Munro  come.  Chumley  stay  now.  Heap  land, 
water,  tree,  house,  no  go.  Yellow-hair  land  away 
there.  Black-hair  land  there.  Two  young  squaw 
come  to  Chumley  Post  some  day,  fight  hard,  say 
1  no  come  on  my  land.'  All  that  land  Chumley 
land.  Way  off.  Own  tree.  Own  hill.  Ownprain^ 
Long  time  ago,  Indian  own  'em  all." 

"I  suppose  that's  so,"  said  Jessie;  but  he  had 
more  to  say  on  the  land  question. 

"Red  Beauty  hear  big  heap  preach  one  time. 
Know  what  come  some  day.  All  Indian  come  back. 
Own  all  land  again.  Potawatamy  come.  Pawnee 
come.  Potawatamy  kill  him.  Sioux  come.  All 
tribe  come.  White  man  all  go.  Plenty  buffalo 
then.  No  more  heap  devil." 

It  was  not  exactly  clear  what  he  had  or  had  not 
heard  from  some  Agency  missionary,  but  he  evi- 
dently believed  himself  uttering  sound  doctrine. 

At  some  untellable  future  time  the  red  men  were 
to  have  their  own  again  and  a  little  more,  with 
plenty  of  game  and  no  pale-face  interlopers.  The 
expression  of  his  own  face  when  he  mentioned  the 

19* 


222  RED  BEAUTY. 

Pawnees  was  a  suggestion  of  some  things  which 
might  occur  in  the  "  Happy  Hunting-Grounds"  in 
the  absence  of  United  States  cavalry,  but  no  argu- 
ment was  attempted  by  his  hearers,  and  they  walked 
on  with  him  towards  the  house. 

As  they  drew  near  and  saw  its  owner  standing  in 
the  door- way  Red  Beauty  asked  of  Mrs.  Munro, — 

"  Two  young  white  squaw.  S'pose  Eed  Beauty 
take  one, — Jerry  McCord  one, — what  Chumley  do  ?" 

It  was  an  embarrassing  conundrum,  but  he  had 
more  in  him,  for  now  he  pointed  from  Jessie  to  her 
brother  with, — 

"  Nobody  give  pony  for  white  squaw.  Boy  get 
pony,  by  and  by.  Go  get  one,  two,  four  Pawnee 
squaw.  Give  pony  for  'em.  Bring  'em  home.  Say 
old  woman  no  more  work.  Got  squaw  for  do  work 
now.  Sit  still  in  house." 

All  could  laugh  at  that  except  Red  Beauty, 
although  Mrs.  Munro  had  never  before  been  called 
an  old  woman.  Her  healthy  cheeks  looked  even 
healthier,  however,  over  the  idea  of  Perry's  four 
Pawnee  wives  doing  her  housework  for  her. 

"  Go  in  house,"  said  Red  Beauty.  "  See  table. 
Yellow-hair  work  all  day.  Fix  heap  for  boy.  Boy 
look  at  yellow-hair  and  break  plate." 

At  that  moment  Chumley's  own  welcome  helped 
Perry  decidedly,  and  the  quizzical  old  savage  did 
not  have  another  chance  for  rude  fun  for  some  time. 
His  next  came  in  a  general  pause  after  the  greetings 


SUPPER  AT  CHUMLEFS.  223 

of  the  ladies,  old  and  young,  had  been  exchanged, 
and  while  the  eyes  of  the  visitors  were  making 
inquiries. 

"  Look !"  he  said  to  Uncle  John,  pointing  around. 
"  All  door  in  house  open.  'Teal  anything  John  like." 

It  had  not  been  so  when  he  was  left  as  garrison 
of  the  house,  and  now,  while  Mrs.  Eagleson  re- 
turned to  the  kitchen,  Erica  showed  Jessie  and  her 
mother  every  room  but  Mr.  Chumley's  own.  At 
the  door  of  that  she  paused,  saying  whose  it  was, 
and  they  had  but  a  glimpse  of  its  interior,  although 
Chumley  had  led  the  men  through  it  on  their  way 
to  examine  the  stable. 

They  saw  much  in  that  one  glimpse,  and  their 
neighbor  was  more  an  object  of  curiosity  than  ever. 

"Now,"  said  Erica,  "if  you  will  be  seated,  I 
must  go  and  help  mother." 

So  she  did,  and  Perry  Munro  re-entered  the 
dining-room  in  time  to  hear  his  mother  whisper, — 

"  Jessie,  you  never  can  tell.  Uncle  John  may  be 
right.  She  is  young  yet,  but  she  would  look 
splendidly  as  lady  of  the  house." 

"  She  is  tall  for  her  age,"  said  Jessie,  and  at  that 
moment  they  heard  Uncle  John  remark,  coming 
through  Chumley's  bedroom, — 

"  Joseph,  do  you  suppose  you  have  forgotten  how 
to  fiddle?  I'm  glad  Mr.  Chumley  has  one.  A 
horn,  too.  Do  you  sing,  Mr.  Chumley  ?" 

"  I  think  I  can  safely  leave  that  to  the  ladies,'' 


224  RED  BEAUTY. 

he  replied,  but  Uncle  John  was  fond  of  music  and 
continued, — 

"I  should  be  glad  to  hear  you  after  supper. 
You  could  accompany  yourself  on  the  horn." 

"  Hardly,"  said  Chumley,  and  the  laugh  stirred 
up  by  Uncle  John  seemed  to  do  him  good.  It 
brought  into  his  eyes  the  first  twinkle  of  out  and 
out  fun  Jessie  had  seen  there. 

Supper  was  ready  now.  Red  Beauty  drew  up  a 
chair,  but  before  sitting  down  he  pointed  gravely  to 
one  article  after  another  and  asserted, — 

"  Chumley  great  brave.  'Teal  a  heap.  Hide  all 
'calp  take  and  say  '  Chumley  good  man.'  Heap  lie." 

His  host  knew  him  perfectly  well,  and  responded 
to  the  ladies, — 

"  "When  Red  Beauty  was  in  his  prime,  his  repu- 
tation stood  very  high.  He  was  called  the  best 
horse-thief  in  his  tribe." 

"  Red  Beauty  great  chief!"  was  the  prompt  ac- 
ceptance of  that  bit  of  glory.  "  Good  Indian. 
Take  'calp.  'Teal  horse.  Have  heap  squaw. 
Heap  pony.  All  gone  now." 

There  was  enough  of  pathos  in  the  slow  utter- 
ance of  the  last  words  to  prevent  a  laugh  over  his 
picture  of  a  good  Indian,  and  they  all  sat  down  to 
thoroughly  enjoy  a  capital  supper.  Perry  Munro 
sat  where  he  could  see  the  "  shot-hole"  in  the  front 
door,  however,  and  before  supper  was  over  he  had 
heard  Red  Beauty  vividly  explain  why  it  was  there. 


ONE  SECRET  TOLD.  225 

CHAPTER    XXIL 

ONE  SECEET  TOLD. 

Two  separate  commanders  of  mounted  Pawnee- 
hunters  ordered  a  halt  at  about  the  middle  of  that 
afternoon. 

The  lieutenant  who  was  searching  for  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord  and  his  runaways  at  the  northward  came  to 
the  bank  of  a  river  and  could  find  no  reason  for 
crossing  it.  Neither  was  there  any  reason  for  fol- 
lowing the  bank  of  its  winding  channel  either 
down  or  up. 

"Leftenant,"  remarked  the  best  scout  he  had, 
"  this  'ere  trail's  busted." 

"  Seems  to  have  petered  out,"  remarked  the  offi- 
cer, with  a  reddening  face  and  a  bead  of  perspiration 
on  his  forehead. 

"  Guess  we're  follerin'  a  wild-goose  chase.  There 
ain't  no  use  in  breakin'  down  another  hoss.  Thar's 
no  track  to  go  by.  All  the  sign  we  had  is  used  up." 

"  That's  so,"  said  his  beaten  commander.  "  Boys, 
it's  'bout  face.  We've  missed  catching  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord  this  time." 

"  About  face"  it  was,  and  there  were  many  weary 
and  dejected  miles  of  hot-weather  riding  before 
them,  on  their  return  to  report  failure. 
P 


226  RED  BEAUTY. 

It  is  part  of  the  continual  life  and  duty  of  United 
States  troops  acting  as  police  in  the  Indian  coun- 
try. 

Far  away  to  the  southward,  the  other  squad  of 
men  in  blue  also  drew  rein  while  their  captain 
wiped  his  face  also  and  studied  the  situation.  He 
had  scouts  and  he  had  trailers,  but  his  orderly  ser- 
geant was  his  prevailing  counsellor,  and  now  the 
sergeant  spoke : 

"  I'd  say  go  west  for  a  couple  of  days.  Some  of 
them  ranch  men  buy  hosses  of  him,  they  say,  and 
we  may  get  a  hint  of  some  sort." 

"  "Not  from  the  men  he  deals  with,"  said  the  cap- 
tain, shaking  his  head. 

"  There's  always  some  fellow  'round  a  ranch 
that'll  sell  his  soul  for  five  dollars  or  a  plug  of  ter- 
baccer." 

"All  right.  We  won't  go  south  another  mile, 
anyhow.  If  nothing  turns  up  we  can  try  back 
along  the  Trail  clean  through  the  hills." 

No  river  had  stopped  them.  Only  some  old  ruts 
and  a  buffalo-path,  beyond  which  they  did  not  care 
to  go.  Their  camp  that  night  was  some  miles 
nearer  sunset,  and  just  as  many  farther  away  from 
the  camp  of  Jerry  McCord's  Pawnees.  In  this 
latter  hiding-place,  however,  there  was  at  that  hour 
no  Jerry.  The  plans  with  which  his  heated  brain 
was  teeming  had  carried  him  away,  no  man  knew 
exactly  whither. 


ONE  SECRET  TOLD.  227 

The  cavalry  squads  were  not  alone  in  their  delays 
and  defeats. 

Perry  and  Jessie  Munro  felt  that  it  would  be  out 
of  order  for  them  to  ask  questions  concerning 
local  history  of  either  Erica  or  her  mother  in 
Chumley's  presence.  The  very  perfection  with 
which  he  performed  his  duty  as  host  compelled  a 
postponement  of  their  curiosity,  although  the  con- 
tents of  his  house,  particularly  of  his  bedroom, 
had  stirred  it  to  undue  activity. 

Not  until  the  darkness  had  settled  over  the 
prairie  did  Chumley's  guests  depart,  and  he  went 
with  them  mainly  because  Erica  insisted  on  a  walk 
with  Jessie.  It  seemed  a  matter  of  course  that 
Perry  should  be  with  them,  and  Chumley  made  it 
appear  unavoidable  that  he  should  go  on  in  advance 
with  Mrs.  Munro  and  her  husband  and  Uncle  John. 

Hardly  were  the  three  young  people  out  of  hear- 
ing of  the  others  before  Jessie's  long  pent-up  in- 
quiry burst  forth. 

"  Erica,"  she  exclaimed,  "  Mr.  Chumley  tells 
us  you  were  almost  scalped  once.  His  dogs  saved 
you." 

"  Dogs  ?  Yes,  the  dogs  pulled  down  the  Pawnee, 
but  it  was  Red  Beauty  killed  him.  Scalped  him, 
too.  He  shot  one  more.  Mr.  Chumley  killed  all 
the  rest.  Oh,  it  was  so  terrible!  He  was  splen- 
did!" 

"  He  did  not  scalp  them  ?"  was  Jessie's  confused 


228  RED  BEAUTY. 

exclamation,  and  Erica  turned  upon  her  indig- 
nantly : 

"He?  Mr.  Chumley?  You  don't  know  how 
brave  he  is.  He  was  all  alone.  There  were  five 
Pawnees.  He  rode  right  in.  I  was  a  little  girl, 
but  I  see  him  now  on  his  great  horse  that  reared 
so  when  he  fired  his  rifle.  They  went  down  and 
rolled  and  struggled  on  the  grass,  and  Red  Beauty 
came  out  of  the  bushes.  That's  why  he  does  as  he 
pleases  at  our  house.  Says  anything.  Nobody 
cares  what  he  says.  He  shot  the  Pawnee  that  took 
hold  of  mother." 

The  Potawatamy's  freedom  of  speech  and  action 
was  accounted  for,  and  Erica's  indignation  was 
much  appeased  by  Perry's  enthusiastic  declara- 
tion,— 

"  Chumley  was  grand  !  Tell  us  all  about  it.  He 
said  you  would.  He  told  us  a  little  ai\d  wouldn't 
say  any  more." 

Erica  had  enough  to  say  now,  and  the  skirmish 
by  the  spring  lost  very  little  of  its  weird  interest  in 
her  narration.  Perry  felt  that  Chumley  would 
never  again  be  the  same  man  to  him,  but  his  sister 
was  conscious  of  a  strong  sense  of  repugnance 
which  did  not  spring  altogether  from  the  mere  idea 
of  bloodshed.  One  man  against  five  was  magnifi- 
cent, but  one  man  burying  five  was  grisly  and 
horrible.  She  shuddered  as  she  thought  of  the 
scalped  and  bloody  corpses  and  the  awful  courage 


ONE  SECRET  TOLD.  229 

and  nerve  of  the  unflinching  sexton  by  whose  own 
hand  three  of  them  had  fallen. 

Erica's  account  had  been  given  with  all  the 
rapidity  of  intense  earnestness,  and  did  but  last 
until  the  Pawnee  Trail  was  reached  and  the  older 
people  waited  there  for  the  younger. 

The  good-nights  were  exchanged  all  around, 
and  then  Perry  once  more  saw  Erica  take  Chum- 
ley's  arm  and  walk  away  homeward,  while  Jessie 
remarked  in  his  ear, — 

"  See  that,  Perry  ?  It's  no  wonder  she  should 
think  so  much  of  him.  He  saved  all  their  lives." 

"  I  wish  I'd  been  there." 

"  He  didn't  need  any  other  help  but  Red  Beauty. 
I  shall  treat  him  better  after  this." 

"  Mother  and  father  and  Uncle  John  must  know 
all  about  it,"  said  he,  and  that  was  the  key-note  of 
a  talk  which  lasted  long  after  they  reached  their 
own  camp.  Very  nearly  the  last  strong  point  of  it 
was  made  by  Uncle  John,  when  he  said, — 

"  I  do  not  at  all  understand  the  operation  of  tak- 
ing a  scalp.  I  must  get  Red  Beauty  to  explain  it 
to  me." 

"  Uncle  John,"  said  Perry,  "  good-night.  I  hope 
you  will  never  be  called  upon  to  perform  that  oper- 
ation upon  anybody  in  this  settlement." 

It  was  bedtime,  but  it  was  hardly  sleep-time,  and 
even  Perry  finally  dropped  off  in  the  midst  of  an 
effort  to  imagine  the  sound  and  effect  of  an  Indian 

20 


230  RED  BEAUTY. 

war-whoop.  No  sleeper  in  either  of  the  two  house- 
holds dreamed  who  had  or  had  not  passed  along 
the  old  highway  of  the  bisons  before  the  sun  rose, 
but  Jessie  awoke  with  an  instantaneous  recalling 
of  the  story  she  had  heard  the  evening  before,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  she  had  but  one  thing  to  do  that 
morning. 

"  Perry,"  she  said,  "  I'm  going  to  ride  over  after 
breakfast  and  get  Erica,  and  make  her  go  and 
show  me  that  place.  Will  you  go  ?" 

"  Where  the  fight  was  ?  No,  I  can't  quit  work 
for  an  hour.  I'll  see  it  some  other  time." 

She  was  vaguely  glad  of  that  answer,  and  did 
not  guess  how  glad  he  was  to  have  work  to  plead 
as  an  excuse  for  not  seeing  Erica  Eagleson  that 
morning.  At  least,  not  at  Chumley's  house,  and 
then  to  see  him  come  with  her  as  a  matter  of  course. 
He  overstrained  the  unpleasant  idea  a  little,  for 
that  was  what  Chumley  did  not  do.  Jessie  rode 
over  and  her  approach  was  seen,  and  Erica  awaited 
her  at  the  gate  with  a  smiling  welcome,  but  no 
Chumley  made  his  appearance.  As  Erica  quickly 
explained  for  him, — 

"  He  is  out  in  the  woods  beyond  your  land,  pick- 
ing out  trees  for  logs  for  your  house.  Father  '11 
be  ready  to  go  at  them  to-morrow." 

Jessie  expressed  strongly  her  sense  of  such 
neighborly  kindness,  and  her  invitation  for  a  ride 
sent  Erica  away  in  haste  for  her  horse. 


ONE  SECRET  TOLD.  231 

She  led  out  a  very  pretty  animal,  and  replied  to 
Jessie's  admiration  of  it  with, — 

"  She  is  so  gentle,  too.  She  will  follow  me  any- 
where. Mr.  Chumley  trained  her  himself  before 
he  gave  her  to  me.  He  knows  more  about  horses 
than  anybody  else  does.  He  is  splendid !" 

"You've  a  perfect  right  to  think  so,"  laughed 
Jessie,  and  if  her  words  meant  any  more  than 
"  because  he  killed  those  Pawnees,"  Erica  answered 
that  meaning  with  enthusiasm, — 

"  I'll  take  you  right  there,  and  you'll  see  how  it 
was.  It's  a  beautiful  place,  too,  and  we're  going 
to  build  our  house  there." 

She  was  in  the  saddle  as  a  bird  alighting,  and  in 
another  moment  they  were  racing  away,  side  by 
side,  along  the  Trail.  They  pulled  up  when  they 
came  to  the  Post,  and  Jessie  remarked, — 

"  I  see  no  trace  of  any  graves." 

"  Mr.  Chumley  says  he  took  care  to  prevent  that. 
None  of  the  other  Pawnees  know  what  became  of 
these.  He  said  I  might  ask  you  to  say  nothing 
about  it  to  anybody.  They  might  come  for  revenge, 
and  he  means  to  speak  to  Mr.  Munro." 

The  grass  was  level  there,  and  they  rode  on  to- 
wards the  grove  where  the  Eagleson  family  had 
been  "  trapped." 

There  was  a  trap  there  now.  Among  the  thick 
bushes  a  horse  was  hidden,  and  by  him  stood  a 
man  dressed  in  a  neat  suit  of  black.  He  looked 


232  RED  BEAUTY. 

even  more  gentlemanly  and  business-like  in  that 
than  in  blue,  for  he  was  saying  to  himself, — 

"  The  fact  that  I  can  ride  right  into  a  settlement 
and  keep  a  bank  account  shows  that  I  am  correct. 
I  can  drop  Jerry  McCord  at  any  time,  and  nobody 
can  prove  one  thing  against  Edward  Payne." 

Vicious  self-indulgence  can  obtain  the  keenest 
possible  idea  of  the  uses  of  money,  while  such  a 
life  as  he  was  then  leading  offered  few  opportunities 
for  squandering  ill-gotten  gains.  There  was  noth- 
ing exceptional  in  the  fact  that  he  had  found  a 
suitable  place  of  deposit  for  all  of  these  against  the 
time  when  he  should  need  them.  He  knew  the 
ways  of  the  world  and  of  its  business,  and  the 
nearest  "  National  Bank"  was  but  two  days'  hard 
riding  distance  northeasterly,  wild  and  thinly  set- 
tled as  was  the  region  around  Chumley's  Post. 

There  had  been  no  immediate  need  for  resting 
his  horse  in  that  grove,  but  there  he  was.  He  had 
no  knowledge  of  its  history,  nor  any  small  hope 
that  any  face  he  wished  to  see  would  be  drawn  to 
it,  but  the  growing  power  of  his  wild  passion  had 
kept  him  there,  for  three  long  hours,  brooding  with 
a  burning  bitterness  over  the  fact  that  he  could  not 
hope  for  a  favorable  reception  at  the  Munro  camp. 

Now,  as  he  looked  out  over  the  grassy  slopes 
beyond,  almost  choking  with  wrath  yet  nearly  ready 
for  departure,  he  saw  what  led  him  to  hide  both 
himself  and  his  horse  more  carefully. 


ONE  SECRET  TOLD.  233 

"Both  of  them?  Oh,  if  it  were  Jessie  only. 
"Why  did  they  both  come  ?  Now  I  cannot  speak  to 
either,  unless  they  wander  in  here;  I  could  not  help 
it,  then." 

If  he  had  not  been  deeply,  genuinely  in  love, 
after  his  kind,  his  vanity  might  have  led  him  into 
some  imprudence.  He  saw  the  two  girls  ride  in, 
and  their  unchecked  conversation  fully  explained 
for  what  cause  they  were  there.  Erica  pointed  out 
minutely  the  topography  of  her  terrible  adventure. 
There  stood  the  wagon,  and  by  it  she  had  seen  her 
father  fall.  There  her  mother  struggled  with  the 
Pawnee  who  came  to  kill  her.  Out  of  those  bushes 
glided  Red  Beauty. 

"  I  was  standing  right  here,  Jessie,  when  the  In- 
dian took  both  braids  of  my  hair  in  his  hand.  Mr. 
Chumley's  hound  caught  him  by  the  wrist  of  the 
other  hand  that  had  a  knife  in  it.  The  other  hound 
took  him  by  the  throat.  Then  I  saw  Mr.  Chumley 
among  the  trees,  there,  on  horseback,  and  they  all 
went  down,  one  after  another." 

She  had  more  to  tell,  and  Jessie  had  questions  to 
ask,  never  dreaming  that  a  listener  in  the  bushes 
said  to  himself,  in  astonishment, — 

"  They  told  me  about  the  strange  disappearance 
of  those  five  braves.  Now  I  can  tell  them  where 
they  all  went  to.  Buried  by  the  Post,  are  they  ? 
No  need  for  me  to  touch  Chumley  now.  The  whole 
band  '11  attend  to  his  business.  It's  worth  a  great 

20* 


234  RED  BEAUTY. 

deal  to  me.  But  oil,  how  wonderfully  beautiful  she 
is !  I  thought  Erica  was  the  loveliest  being  on  earth 
till  I  saw  her.  I'm  willing  to  settle  down,  even,  for 
her  sake." 

He  said  it  as  if  he  were  describing  the  last  sacri- 
fice which  man  could  make  for  the  love  of  woman, 
just  as  Jessie  exclaimed, — 

"  Come,  Erica.  I  want  to  get  away.  It's  a 
dreadful  place.  Tell  me  the  rest  as  we  ride  along." 

"  There  isn't  any  more  to  tell,"  said  Erica,  as 
they  wheeled  and  rode  out  of  the  grove.  Little 
she  imagined  how  very  much  she  had  already  told 
or  to  whom  she  had  told  it.  The  moment  they 
were  out  of  sight,  a  man  on  horseback  galloped 
away  in  an  opposite  direction,  and  he  carried  in 
his  head  and  heart  a  new  and  deadly  peril  to  the 
man  who  had  so  boldly  rescued  the  Swedish  immi- 
grants from  the  Pawnee  trap  long  years  ago. 


A   MUCH  SUSPECTED  LEADER.  235 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

A  MUCH  SUSPECTED  LEADER. 

THE  broad  acres  of  the  Munro  "  section"  found 
their  western  boundary-line  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
deep  among  the  trees  of  the  forest,  and  Chumley 
was  now  walking  slowly  from  trunk  to  trunk  of 
his  neighbor's  best  timber.  He  had  an  axe  in  his 
hand,  and  every  now  and  then  he  cut  a  chip  from 
a  tree  of  nearly  a  certain  girth,  remarking,  "  That 
will  do  for  one  more." 

He  was  marking  trees  to  build  log  walls  with, 
and  he  was  thinking  of  the  people  who  were  to 
live  within  the  walls  so  to  be  builded. 

"  Seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "  as  if  I'd  known  them 
for  years  instead  of  days.  I  don't  know  if  I'm 
exactly  fair  with  Jessie.  I  hate  to  do  it,  but  I  will, 
as  soon  as  I  get  to  the  house." 

All  that  was  a  riddle  until  he  had  finished  his 
self-appointed  task  and  had  walked  slowly  and 
moodily  to  his  own  home  and  room.  He  closed 
the  door  behind  him  and  stood  for  a  moment 
before  his  writing-desk  as  if  irresolute. 

"  It's  there,"  he  said,  "  but  it  is  fall  five  years 
since  I  have  looked  at  it.  I  think  it  would  be  fifty 


236  RED  BEAUTY. 

more  before  I  should  wish  to  see  it  or  its  original 
if  it  were  not  for  Jessie  Munro's  face." 

A  key  was  put  into  the  lock  and  a  lid  was  lowered. 
Then  another  key  went  into  the  lock  of  a  drawer, 
and  a  little  velvet  case  was  in  his  hand.  He  held 
it  for  a  full  minute  before  he  touched  the  spring 
and  it  flew  open.  His  lips  came  together  very 
tightly  and  his  forehead  showed  its  furrows  at  their 
deepest,  but  he  looked  long  and  intently  before  he 
said,  aloud, — 

"  I  see  more  than  I  ever  did  before.  I  was  not 
mistaken  as  to  their  being  counterparts,  but  the 
camera  will  not  lie.  I  could  not  read  her  living 
face  then  as  I  can  her  photograph  now,  or  I  should 
not  have  been  made  such  a  fool  of.  How  easily  a 
man  can  throw  his  life  away !  Ko  wonder  I  cared 
little  how  I  risked  mine  after  that.  It  was  hardly 
worth  saving.  Jessie  Munro  doesn't  guess  what  it 
cost  me  to  be  neighborly  to  her.  "WTiat  is  it,  now, 
in  this  picture,  that  no  photograph  of  her  would 
show?  It's  a  deep  study." 

So  he  seemed  to  find  it,  until  he  closed  the  case 
and  put  it  away.  Even  then  he  walked  out  into 
the  open  air  with  a  preoccupied  look  upon  his  face 
which  did  not  disappear  until  two  young  women 
on  horseback  came  racing  to  the  very  gate. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Ohumley,"  said  Jessie, 
cheerily.  "I've  brought  her  safe  home  again. 
We've  been  to  the  scene  of  your  exploit." 


A  MUCH  SUSPECTED  LEADER.  237 

"  I  told  her  all  about  it,"  said  Erica,  "  and  she 
agrees  with  me." 

"  Will  you  dismount  and  walk  in,  Miss  Munro  ?" 
said  Chumley. 

"  I  must  hurry  home,  thank  you." 

"  Don't  let  that  dismal  story  give  you  wrong 
notions  about  danger.  It  was  a  rare  case  then,  and 
four  years  have  worked  improvements." 

"And  there  are  fewer  Indians  and  more  white 
people.  I  wish  there  were  thousands  coming  right 
along." 

"  They  will  come." 

He  was  opening  the  gate,  but  Erica  was  already 
on  the  ground  without  help  and  led  her  horse  in, 
while  Jessie  seemed  averse  to  further  conversation. 
She  herself  could  hardly  have  explained  how 
strongly  or  why,  and  she  rode  away  as  if  in  fear 
of  being  too  late  for  something  or  other.  She  had 
much  to  relate  to  her  mother  when  she  reached  the 
patent  house,  in  which  a  small  cook-stove  was 
already  at  work,  but  among  her  first  sayings  was, — 

"  Mother,  it  did  seem  to  me  as  if  I  could  not 
speak  about  it  to  Mr.  Chumley.  There  he  stood, 
by  the  gate,  and  I  suppose  I  ought  to  have  compli- 
mented him." 

"  Leave  all  that  to  Erica,  my  dear.  It's  an  old 
story  to  him." 

Chumley  was  receiving  unknown  compliments 
at  that  hour,  for  Jerry  McCord,  as  he  galloped 


238  RED  BEAUTY. 

along  across  prairie,  on  an  errand  whose  direction 
he  alone  knew,  expressed  himself  with  great  energy 
as  to  the  prowess  described  in  his  hearing  by  Erica. 

Few  men  were  better  qualified  to  form  an  opinion, 
and  his  respect  for  Chumley  was  all  the  greater 
because  of  Erica's  neglect  to  state  that  not  one  of 
the  slain  braves  carried  a  revolver.  Jerry  had  taken 
the  pistols  for  granted.  He  had  left  behind  him  a 
lot  of  precisely  such  Pawnees,  and  there  was  no 
immediate  danger  that  any  destroying  horseman 
would  ride  rashly  into  their  camp. 

There  they  were,  all  that  day,  with  the  exception 
of  a  few  who  were  lazily  looking  for  the  game  they 
were  sure  of  finding.  The  kind  of  life  they  led 
required  little  effort  to  sustain  it,  and  they  were  the 
most  completely  at  their  ease  of  all  the  inhabitants 
of  that  region.  They  were  sure  of  being  main- 
tained at  public  cost  whenever  they  might  choose 
to  be  captured  and  taken  to  the  Reservation. 
Meantime  they  had  no  need  for  even  such  pleasant 
work  as  thieving,  and  were  quite  willing  to  lie 
around  listlessly  day  after  day,  waiting  the  return 
of  the  white  man  whose  busy  brain  devised  their 
more  profitable  excitements. 

They  were  not  to  be  stirred  up  by  him  for  several 
days.  He  camped  on  the  prairie  that  first  night, 
as  much  at  home  there  as  any  Indian. 

The  sloughs  and  streams  were  running  low  at 
that  season,  and  he  seemed  to  know  the  best  fords. 


A   MUCH  SUSPECTED  LEADER.  239 

One  more  night  came,  but  he  passed  it  in  a  settler's 
cabin,  and  at  noon  of  the  third  day  he  rode  leisurely 
into  a  railway  town  and  dismounted  before  a  build- 
ing over  the  door  of  which  the  sign  read  "  First 
National  Bank." 

It  was  the  first  of  its  kind  in  that  place,  and  it 
might  be  long  before  another  would  be  needed, 
but  there  was  an  air  of  solid  respectability  about  it. 
So  there  was  about  the  old  gentleman  in  the  presi- 
dent's room,  who  welcomed  Jerry  McCord  as  his 
well-known  depositor,  Mr.  Edward  Payne. 

"  Come  to  draw  on  us  for  some  more  purchases, 
Mr.  Payne  ?" 

"  N"ot  exactly.  I've  sold  to  very  good  advantage 
this  last  trip.  I've  got  something  to  leave  with  you 
for  a  while,  but  my  next  purchases  will  be  lands. 
I'm  out  of  the  cattle  trade." 

"  Going  to  farm  it,  eh  ?  Going  to  get  a  wife  and 
settle  down.  That's  a  good  idea.  Which  do  you 
mean  to  pick  out  first,  wife  or  land  ?" 

"  Guess  I've  looked  around  enough  now,  Mr. 
Bunker,"  laughed  Jerry,  and  there  was  a  digni- 
fiedly  merry  exchange  of  worldly  wisdom  between 
them  concerning  land  speculations,  cattle-raising, 
pork,  and  railway  improvements.  The  depositor 
declared  himself  in  some  haste  to  get  away  at 
last. 

"Waiting  for  you,  is  she?"  said  Mr.  Bunker. 
"  Well,  give  her  my  compliments,  and  tell  her  she 


240  RED  BEAUTY. 

has  caught  the  man  who  can  write  the  neatest  sig- 
aature  on  my  books." 

There  was  no  occasion  to  write  it  now,  and  the 
banker  gave  his  customer  no  slightest  sign  of  any 
further  interest  in  him  than  belonged  to  the  fact 
that  he  kept  his  money  in  that  institution.  The 
cashier  and  the  teller  were  equally  polite  and  non- 
committal, and  it  was  not  until  Jerry  had  mounted 
and  ridden  away  that  Mr.  Bunker,  standing  behind 
the  counter,  remarked  to  both  of  them, — 

"  Gentlemen,  it's  none  of  our  business.  I  sup- 
pose our  vaults  are  actually  safer  with  a  good  deal 
of  money  in  them  belonging  to  that  kind  of  men. 
Nobody  can  forge  his  signature." 

"  I'd  hardly  feel  so  safe  about  him  and  another 
man's,"  dryly  responded  the  cashier.  "  Queer  we 
can  find  out  nothing  whatever  about  him.  He's  a 
king-pin  somewhere." 

"  I  know  a  town  in  Illinois,"  said  Mr.  Bunker, 
"  that  never  had  a  horse  stolen  within  twenty  miles 
of  it.  Some  of  its  well-to-do  citizens  never  oper- 
ated too  near  home." 

"  We  are  all  right,  then,  on  that  theory.  At  all 
events  I  don't  care  to  make  an  enemy  of  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Payne." 

They  were  cautious  men,  clear-headed,  careful  of 
their  own  interests,  and  they  did  not  say  too  much, 
even  to  each  other.  Nevertheless  it  was  made  plain 
that  the  regular  cattle  dealers  and  traders  of  that 


A   MUCH  SUSPECTED  LEADER.  241 

border  were  well  known  to  them,  and  that  from 
these  very  men  they  had  learned  that  no  "  Edward 
Payne"  bought  and  sold  in  their  fraternity.  The 
bank  president  went  back  into  his  room  and  sat 
down,  with  a  cloud  of  thought  upon  his  respect- 
able face. 

"I  don't  care  to  know  too  much,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "He  is  not  the  only  odd  stick  on  our 
list.  Liquor-men,  gamblers,  sports, — well,  money 
is  money.  He  answers  the  description  perfectly. 
Almost  too  well.  It  seems  impossible, — so  well- 
bred, — so  fine  looking, — and  yet  he  may  be  Jerry 
McCord  for  all  that." 

Concealment  is  less  easy,  anywhere,  after  a  man's 
deeds  have  earned  for  him  a  name  and  fame,  and 
Jerry  was  probably  unaware  how  good  a  "  descrip- 
tion" of  him  was  in  circulation. 

"  I  can  bring  Jessie  right  here,"  he  said,  as  he 
rode  along,  on  his  return.  "  We  can  make  a  tour 
East.  I've  money  enough  to  do  it  in  style.  I'd 
like  to  show  her  to  one  lot  of  people  in  New  York, 
but  that  would  hardly  do.  There  is  a  chapter 
there  she  must  never  open.  I'd  shoot  man  01 
woman  that  told  her  about  Sing  Sing.  It  isn't  like 
these  matters  here." 

No  romance  of  the  border  could  beautify  a  con- 
vict's striped  suit  or  light  up  the  cell  of  a  felon,  and 
he  was  aware  that  women  had  prejudices. 

Jessie  had,  but  all  the  ideas  of  human  life  to 
L  21 


242  RED  BEAUTY. 

which  she  had  been  educated  were  undergoing  a 
change.  Jerry  himself  might  have  been  gratified 
if  he  had  known  how  often  her  thoughts  reverted 
to  him  during  those  days,  or  how  feverishly  she 
studied  and  re-studied  all  she  could  remember  of 
his  face.  He  was  a  mystery  to  her,  a  riddle  she 
could  not  solve,  and  in  all  her  pure  mind  there  was 
not  enough  knowledge  of  evil  to  interpret  him  as 
a  revelation  of  cultivated  human  depravity. 

"  I  do  not  wonder,"  she  said  to  her  mother, "  that 
he  fell  in  love  with  so  beautiful  a  girl  as  Erica." 

"I  think  Mr.  Chumley  is  quite  able  to  protect 
her,  my  dear,  unless  too  many  Pawnees  come  at 
once." 

"  He  does  not  believe  they  will  ever  come,  but 
we  must  keep  that  old  matter  secret." 

"  Certainly,  Jessie,  and  I  hope  Erica  will  come 
over  often.  It  isn't  so  easy  for  us  to  go  there." 

She  did  not  say  why,  but  it  was  precisely  so,  and 
Jessie's  answer  took  it  for  granted  when  she  said, — 

"  I  wish  she  would  come  every  day." 

It  was  a  wish  that  seemed  likely  to  be  gratified, 
at  least  so  long  as  Erica's  father  was  at  work  among 
Mr.  Munro's  logs,  and  there  was  one  unaccount- 
able feature  about  her  coming  and  going.  Chumley 
also  came  frequently,  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  but 
in  either  mode  he  was  sure  to  come  alone  and  to 
go  away  early.  Upon  Perry  therefore  fell  a  social 
duty  he  did  not  fail  to  perform.  He  accompanied 


A   MYSTERIOUS   DISAPPEARANCE.  243 

Erica  home  invariably,  to  be  forced  by  Mrs.  Eagle- 
son  to  stay  to  supper.  Just  as  invariably  he  came 
away  more  deeply  convinced  that  Erica  was  the 
most  beautiful  girl  on  earth,  and  that  Uncle  John 
was  right  when  he  said, — 

"I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  Chumley.     He 
is  a  very  remarkable  character." 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

A  MYSTEKIOTJS  DISAPPEAKANCE. 

THE  summer  days  went  by,  one  by  one,  till  there 
came  a  peculiarly  hot  and  sultry  noon,  under  whose 
blaze  a  six-mule  team  with  an  army  wagon  behind 
them  halted  wearily  at  about  the  point  where  the 
captain  and  his  men  turned  westward  along  the 
Pawnee  Trail,  to  hunt  for  Jerry  McCord  in  the 
wrong  direction. 

A  mounted  man  not  in  uniform  drew  rein  at  the 
side  of  the  wagon,  and  to  him  the  teamster  re- 
marked,— 

"  Quartermaster,  we're  on  time,  and  we  haven't 
any  waitin'  to  do." 

"  No,  sir-ree.    There  they  come,  and  they  haven't 


244  RED  BEAUTY. 

fetched  along  any  Pawnees.     Jerry's  ahead  of  'em 

yet." 

"  Reckon  he's  likely  to  be." 

It  was  true  enough.  The  captain  and  his  men 
were  even  then  in  sight.  Half  an  hour  later  he 
was  reading  a  despatch  from  his  commander,  handed 
him  by  the  quartermaster. 

"  Supplies,  eh  ?  And  the  lieutenant  has  failed, 
and  I'm  to  keep  up  the  search  in  this  direction  till 
I  find  'em  and  bring  'em  in.  Quartermaster,  the 
nearest  water  is  down  the  Trail  a  mile.  We'll 
camp  there  to-night.  "We'll  push  eastward  in  the 
morning." 

There  was  a  strong  contrast  between  the  arid 
level  where  the  cavalry  met  their  supplies  and  the 
comparatively  cool,  delicious  shade  of  the  wooded 
valley  where  Jerry  McCord  rode  in,  at  that  same 
mid- day,  to  be  swarmed  around  by  his  uncomely 
followers. 

The  cavalry  captain  received  little  news  besides 
his  orders,  but  the  red  men  learned  something 
altogether  new  before  Jerry  McCord  completed  his 
report.  So  far  as  they  were  given  to  understand, 
he  had  been  upon  a  prolonged  "  scout,"  devoted  to 
their  peculiar  interests,  and  in  the  course  of  it  he 
had  solved  a  mystery  for  them.  They  knew  now 
what  Chumley  and  Red  Beauty  had  done  for  their 
five  missing  warriors,  four  years  since,  and  where 
the  lost  braves  were  buried.  Thenceforth  some- 


A  MYSTERIOUS   DISAPPEARANCE.  245 

thing  stronger  than  Chumley's  best  horses  was 
likely  to  draw  them  after  Jerry  in  any  plan  he 
might  make  relating  to  his  private  loves  and  re- 
venges. 

He  had  plans,  moulded  in  the  red  heat  of  his 
disturbed,  disorderly  soul,  through  all  the  long 
miles  of  his  return  ride.  This  preparation  of  the 
dire  hatred  of  his  band  for  Chumley  was  a  needful 
beginning,  that  he  might  have  their  more  perfect 
acquiescence,  in  the  absence  of  trustworthy  rule  or 
discipline.  All  the  fire  within  him,  however,  for- 
bade his  lingering  in  that  hiding-place  one  hour 
longer  than  was  absolutely  necessary,  and  he  an- 
nounced an  immediate  departure  upon  another 
errand  in  the  neighborhood  of  Chumley's  Post. 
He  had  passed  it  in  the  night  prudently,  with  no 
better  reminder  of  Jessie  Munro  than  the  deep- 
toned  warning  Bob  had  sent  him  through  the  dark 
for  riding  a  little  too  near  instead  of  keeping  in 
the  Trail. 

Jerry  had  told  his  story  well,  and  all  his  present 
explanations  of  purpose  were  listened  to  without  a 
grunt  of  dissent,  but  he  had  talked  to  men  who 
watched  all  other  men  habitually.  There  was 
something  in  his  manner  they  did  not  understand, 
save  that  it  indicated  something,  upon  his  mind 
which  he  had  hidden  from  them.  Their  nature 
and  their  way  of  life  had  made  them  all  one  tinder 
of  suspicion,  and  it  needed  but  a  spark  to  kindle 

21* 


246  RED  BEAUTY. 

it.  The  swift  thoughts  in  their  hearts  went  round 
from  group  to  group  among  them  while  Jerry  ate 
his  dinner  and  during  the  long  nap  his  weariness 
made  compulsory  afterwards. 

Suspicion  stirred  suspicion,  and  the  hate  he  had 
kindled  aided  the  process  with  subtle  virulence. 
Before  he  was  again  awake,  his  Pawnees  were  in 
doubt  if  he  had  not  known  from  the  beginning  all 
he  now  revealed  concerning  the  graves  at  Chum- 
ley's  Post.  A  story  so  improbable  was  of  itself  a 
suggestion  that  yet  another  hand  had  helped  the 
Swedes  besides  those  of  Chumley  and  the  old  Pota- 
watamy.  Perhaps  it  was  Jerry's  own.  "Who  could 
tell  ?  How  else  did  he  really  get  hold  of  the  facts 
so  minutely?  Chumley  must  be  killed.  Red 
Beauty  must  lose  his  scalp.  !N"o  doubt  was  ex- 
pressed upon  those  points  from  the  first,  but  before 
the  discussion  was  ended  they  had  fully  determined 
that  their  further  dealings  with  Jerry  McCord 
would  depend  upon  the  results  of  a  close  watch 
now  to  be  kept  upon  all  his  motions.  Even  the 
slain  sentry  at  the  tree  in  the  old  camp  was  made 
use  of  to  increase  the  general  cloudiness  of  the 
situation.  Prompt  action  followed,  and  a  pair  of 
the  readiest  and  most  excited  braves  caught  their 
best  ponies  at  once  and  galloped  away  eastward. 
They  would  be  among  the  scenes  of  Jerry's  pro- 
posed scout  before  he  would,  and  they  left  behind 
them  the  entire  gang  doubly  ready  to  follow, 


A    MYSTERIOUS   DISAPPEARANCE.  247 

whether  he  or  they  should  send  word,  or  even  if 
none  at  all  should  be  sent. 

Jerry  awoke  at  last,  and  the  presence  or  absence 
of  any  two  of  his  followers  called  for  neither  thought 
nor  comment.  He  took  a  fresh  horse,  and  a  good 
one,  but  when  he  mounted  him  he  wore  his  blue 
suit,  with  whatever  the  loose  frock-coat  might  con- 
ceal, and  carried  a  repeating  rifle.  The  blanket 
rolled  and  strapped  behind  the  saddle  informed  all 
observers  that  bivouacs  might  be  before  his  return. 

He  had  already  received  an  account  of  all  there 
had  been  to  tell  of  the  laziness  transacted  in  his 
absence,  and  cared  little  for  what  else  might  take 
place  until  he  should  again  be  heard  from.  His 
departure  was  accompanied  by  no  ceremonial  what- 
ever, save  that  an  unanimous  "  Ugh !"  was  uttered 
as  his  horse  bore  him  out  of  sight  among  the  trees. 

There  had  been  no  hint  given  him  concerning 
the  two  embodiments  of  distrust  who  were  already 
far  in  advance  of  him  on  the  rugged  road  which  led 
to  Chumley's  Post. 

That  pair  of  Pawnees  had  a  hard  ride  before 
them,  for  they  were  under  a  necessity  of  not  being 
caught  up  with,  and  they  knew  that  Jerry  McCord 
was  a  rapid  traveller.  They  were  well  mounted, 
well  armed,  with  something  like  Red  Beauty's  claim 
to  be  called  good-looking,  and  they  did  not  dis- 
mount and  hunt  a  hiding-place  among  some  bushes 
until  utter  darkness  took  possession  of  the  country. 


248  RED  BEAUTY. 

The  first  dawn  of  light,  next  morning,  found  the 
investigators  debating  the  day's  work  before  them 
as  they  ate  their  breakfast.  They  then  pushed  on 
again,  as  if  with  an  idea  that  Jerry  might  be  gaining 
upon  them.  With  an  eye  to  the  fact  that  they  were 
far  away  from  the  Reservation  and  did  not  wish  to 
meet  chance  passengers,  they  kept  away  from  the 
Trail  as  much  as  the  nature  of  the  ground  it  led 
through  permitted.  With  a  further  eye  to  the  vague 
errand  of  watchfulness  before  them,  they  divided 
their  forces  and  the  field  of  action  as  soon  as  they 
had  passed  one  narrow  gorge.  The  warrior  who 
went  into  the  woods  at  the  left  of  the  Trail  looked 
suspiciously  after  his  fellow,  and  wished  that  he 
could  follow  him  unseen.  The  brave  who  wheeled 
to  the  right  glanced  back  at  his  brother  on  the  left 
with  a  perfect  assurance  that  he  was  not  to  be 
trusted  alone  or  to  tell  the  truth  when  they  two 
should  meet  again.  This  was  to  be  at  noon,  at  the 
point  where  the  path  to  their  former  camp  of  hiding 
branched  away  from  the  Pawnee  Trail.  Firmly 
they  had  agreed  upon  such  a  result,  but  even  the 
most  positive  contracts,  made  by  the  most  honor- 
able of  thieves,  are  not  always  perfectly  kept. 

The  warrior  on  the  left  had,  in  fact,  a  great 
mystery  before  him.  He  met  not  a  living  soul  in 
the  woods  as  he  rode  watchfully  onward,  and  would 
have  had  nothing  worth  telling  if  he  had  met  the 
other  Pawnee  at  noon. 


A   MYSTERIOUS  DISAPPEARANCE.  249 

He  was  upon  the  spot  himself  at  the  hour,  ready 
to  say  that  he  knew  no  more  than  in  the  morning, 
but  his  mate  had  not  arrived.  It  was  wearisome 
work  to  sit  still  upon  a  pony  and  wait,  and  so, 
after  a  little  while,  he  rode  back  along  the  Trail  to 
meet  the  belated  comer  or  to  find  out  why  he  did 
not  come.  A  mile  and  a  half  of  disappointment 
brought  him  to  a  discovery.  He  knew  every  hoof- 
mark  of  the  pony  ridden  by  that  other  Pawnee, 
and  here  they  were,  clearly  marked  upon  soft 
ground  and  turning  away  towards  the  right.  Evi- 
dently the  rider  had  deemed  it  well  to  go  deeper 
into  the  woods,  and  his  red  "  brother  in  arms"  fol- 
lowed the  trail  he  had  left.  It  was  easy  to  do  so, 
and  before  long  it  led,  for  some  rods,  close  to  the 
edge  of  a  wide,  perpendicular-sided  ravine,  cleft 
through  the  limestone  to  a  depth  of  fifty  or  sixty 
feet  by  some  ancient  torrent  now  dwindled  to  a 
mere  brook  at  the  bottom. 

"  Ugh !  What  for  ?"  asked  the  discontented  pur- 
suer as  he  pushed  on,  studying  those  hoof-marks. 
He  had  not  noted  them  particularly  up  to  a  point  at 
the  head  of  the  gully,  and  may  have  missed  some  of 
their  indications,  but  here  he  paused,  exclaiming 
again,  "Ugh!  What  for?"  as  he  sprang  to  the 
ground. 

He  did  this  because  he  saw  that  the  other  brave 
had  done  so  there,  and  he  stooped  to  examine 
tracks  of  human  feet.  They  were  so  faint  that  a 


250  REV  BEAUTY. 

white  man's  eyes  would  not  have  found  them,  but 
a  closer  look  was  followed  by  a  loud  exclamation, 
a  whoop,  and  a  bound  upon  his  pony.  The  fierce 
gutturals  of  pure  Pawnee  that  he  uttered  as  he 
pushed  forward  contained  a  strange  assertion  : 
the  foot  which  made  those  tracks  was  one  he  did 
not  know,  and  only  one  pair  had  been  near  the 
solitary  pony  ridden  by  his  comrade.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  such  a  brave  as  he  knew  that  brave  to 
be  could  have  been  changed  into  another  brave  as 
he  rode  along  ?  It  was  highly  improbable,  but  the 
hoof-marks  led  on  and  on  for  a  mile  more,  and 
then  it  was  very  difficult  to  suppress  the  whoop  that 
struggled  in  the  pursuer's  throat. 

There  was  the  pony,  neatly  tied  to  a  sapling, 
near  the  edge  of  a  great,  flat  ledge  of  gray  lime- 
stone, and  not  a  human  being  was  near  him.  It 
might  be  an  ambush  or  it  might  not,  and  caution 
was  employed  in  approaching  the  tethered  pony. 

It  was  all  needless,  for  neither  sight  nor  sound 
was  added  to  the  pony's  own  whinny,  save  that  a 
well-known  rifle  lay  upon  the  grass  beside  him. 
Not  a  solitary  track  of  any  human  foot  led  away 
from  the  foot  of  that  sapling.  Could  the  pony 
have  eaten  his  rider  and  then  tied  himself? 

That  also  was  highly  improbable,  and  there  was 
no  hint  to  be  had  until  a  closer  inspection  of  the 
animal  himself  set  the  long-suppressed  whoop  vigor- 
ously free. 


AMONG   THE  BUSHES.  251 

There  was  blood  on  the  bridle ! 

That  was  enough.  One  Pawnee  and  two  ponies 
hurriedly  left  a  place  so  fall  of  mystery  and  possi- 
ble peril,  and  they  did  not  pause  again  until  they 
had  reached  a  secluded  spot,  deeply  hidden  among 
the  crags  of  the  hills,  where  a  bewildered  red 
wanderer  could  eat  his  dinner  and  smoke  and 
wonder  what  had  become  of  the  ordinary  course 
of  human  events. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

AMONG  THE   BUSHES. 

JERRY  McCoRD  rode  on  towards  the  scene  of  his 
proposed  undertaking  with  no  idea  whatever  that 
he  had  scouts  in  advance.  He  was  entirely  pos- 
sessed, moreover,  that  he  could  shape  certain  com- 
ing events  to  suit  himself,  and  that  men  could  be 
put  aside  and  that  woman's  will  could  be  made  to 
yield  to  his  own. 

He  had  company.  Company  that  seemed  to  con- 
verse with  him,  and  which  at  times  made  him  break 
out  into  dreadfully  profane  language.  People 
seemed  to  come  out  of  years  long  past  and  ride 
beside  him,  and  some  of  their  memorial  sugges- 
tions made  him  squirm  in  the  saddle.  They  may 


252  RED  BEAUTY. 

have  been,  some  of  them  pretty  surely,  such  as  he 
would  not  have  wished  to  ride  in  any  manner  by 
the  side  of  Jessie  Munro,  telling  her  what  they 
knew  of  him. 

That  he  also  thought  of  her  was  evident,  for  her 
name  burst  from  his  lips  with  passionate  vehemence 
more  than  once. 

"  They  may  have  set  her  against  me,"  he  said, 
aloud.  "  I  will  fix  all  that.  Mine  she  shall  be !" 

There  had  been  much  to  set  the  mind  of  Jessie 
against  the  dashing,  handsome  stranger  who  had 
ridden  with  her  along  the  Pawnee  Trail.  Never- 
theless it  might  have  stirred  his  vanity  if  he  could 
have  known  how  much  and  how  inquiringly  she 
had  thought  of  him.  Had  she  failed  to  do  so  she 
would  have  been  more  or  less  than  human,  since  he 
had  broken  in  upon  her  quiet  life  as  a  visible, 
tangible  embodiment  of  an  entirely  different  mode 
of  existence.  He  represented  to  her  surprised, 
confused  perceptions  every  crude  idea  she  had  of 
the  wild,  the  adventurous,  reckless,  perilous,  violent, 
and  she  was  not  entirely  able  to  associate  him  with 
crime  because  she  knew  nothing  about  crime.  One 
day  when  she  was  riding  with  Erica  and  they  met 
Red  Beauty,  they  halted  for  a  chat  with  him,  only 
to  be  told  by  that  grimly  humorous  old  savage, — 

"Ugh!  Jerry  McCord  come  for  squaw  some 
day.  Bring  Pawnee.  Say  want  two  squaw,  same 
as  other  chief.  Ugh  !" 


AMONG   THE  BUSHES.  253 

The  grin  with  which  his  wide  mouth  drew  out 
towards  his  ears  as  he  looked  at  their  reddening 
faces  lost  him  their  further  conversation,  for  they 
lashed  their  horses  and  rode  onward,  leaving  him 
to  shake  his  head  and  chuckle, — 

"Jerry  McCord  good-looking  Pawnee.  White 
squaw  no  like  him.  Hope  Chumley  kill  him.  Red 
Beauty  make  hole  in  him  some  day." 

He  was  entirely  correct  in  his  prophecy  about 
the  intended  coming  of  Jerry  McCord,  and  its  ut- 
terance added  to  the  certainty  that  he  would  not  he 
long  absent  from  the  thoughts  of  Jessie  Munro. 
He  and  his  Pawnees  taken  together  made  up  for 
her  a  dim  phantom  of  peril ;  a  sort  of  shadow  on 
the  loveliness  of  that  prairie  and  forest  in  the  day- 
time and  a  reason  for  listening  quickly  to  any  growl 
or  bark  of  Bob's  after  nightfall. 

"  Could  it  be,"  she  asked  herself  at  times,  "  that 
a  man  of  Mr.  Payne's  appearance  should  be  really 
such  a  monster  of  wickedness  ?" 

Some  light  upon  that  question  came  to  her  from 
her  memory  of  his  face  when  he  was  looking  into 
the  muzzle  of  Chumley's  derringer.  She  might 
have  obtained  more  if  she  could  have  watched  the 
same  face  as  he  rode  along  upon  his  present  errand. 
He  spent  a  night  in  the  woods,  as  the  brace  of  Paw- 
nees had  done,  and  the  following  forenoon  found 
him  in  his  old  camp. 

"It  will  do  very  well,"  he  said,  "if  I  have  to 

22 


254  RED  BEAUTY. 

bring  her  here,  but  it  would  be  better  to  go  East  at 
once." 

That  inspection  made,  he  returned  towards  the 
Trail,  and  rode  on  under  cover  of  the  forest  with  a 
feverish  flush  of  eager  determination  upon  his  face, 
and  it  became  him  well.  As  he  went  farther  he 
paused  from  time  to  time  and  listened. 

"  No  chopping,"  he  muttered.  "  None  of  them 
at  work  in  the  timber.  I'll  hide  my  horse  and  scout 
along  the  edge  of  Chumley's  woods." 

So  he  did,  passing  on  after  he  reached  them  from 
tree  to  tree  in  Indian  style,  without  any  peril  of 
being  seen  from  the  house.  He  looked  long  and 
searchingly  at  it  and  its  surroundings,  shaking  his 
clinched  fist  more  than  once,  as  if  at  the  man  whom 
he  did  not  see.  There  was  smoke  rising  from  the 
chimney.  Horses  were  feeding  in  the  pasture-lot. 
All  things  indicated  occupation,  but  no  human 
being  was  visible. 

"  Now  for  Munro's,"  he  exclaimed,  but  he  re- 
doubled his  precautions  as  he  turned  in  that  direc- 
tion. There  was  more  likelihood  of  meeting  some 
stray  member  of  that  family,  simply  because  there 
was  a  larger  number  to  stray.  The  trees  and  bushes 
enabled  him  to  creep  within  a  very  convenient  spy- 
ing distance,  and  his  exclamation  of  surprise  was 
as  if  he  had  borrowed  it  of  a  Pawnee. 

"  Ugh !  A  house !  Stable  ?  Fence  around  them  ? 
How  they  have  worked !  And  there's  Perry  Munro 


AMONG   THE  BUSHES.  255 

and  his  oxen  breaking  prairie.  Going  to  put  in 
winter  wheat,  I  suppose.  They're  bound  to  be  a 
rich  family  at  this  rate.  There's  a  hog-pen.  That's 
Mr.  Munro  at  work  on  the  fence.  If  the  doctor 
isn't  helping  him !  I'd  no  idea  he  could  be  of  any 
use." 

The  male  members  of  the  Munro  family  were  all 
accounted  for,  and  an  immense  amount  of  hard 
work  by  both  men  and  women  also  accounted  for 
the  marvellous  change  in  the  appearance  of  that 
piece  of  prairie  land. 

Jerry  might  well  repeat, — 
"  If  they  keep  it  up  they'll  be  rich." 
He  added,  inwardly,  a  thought  that  it  would  be 
a  prosperous  thing  for  him  to  reform  into  such  a 
family,  with  a  wife  who  would  some  day  own  half 
of  that  rapidly  improving  property.     The  kind  of 
love  he  was  affected  with  is  apt  to  have  such  symp- 
toms, no  matter  what  may  be  its  other  accompani- 
ments. 

Jerry  had  found  a  good  ambush  in  a  mass  of 
hazels,  where  his  only  companion  was  a  rabbit,  who 
believed  himself  also  to  be  perfectly  hidden. 

The  rabbit  was  entirely  unable  to  read  the  mean- 
ing of  a  sudden  change  in  the  expression  of  the 
human  face  he  was  watching,  or  he  would  at  once 
have  known  more  than  any  other  living  rabbit. 
Jerry's  glass  enabled  him  to  study  with  trying 
closeness  a  tiny  drama  which  produced  a  tremen- 


256  RED  BEAUTY. 

dous  effect  upon  Mm.  Both  Jessie  and  Erica  came 
out  of  the  "patent"  part  of  the  house,  and  they 
were  closely  followed  by  Mrs.  Munro.  She  too 
must  have  been  interesting,  as  a  woman  who  might 
some  day  be  a  mother-in-law,  but  Jerry's  gaze  was 
focalized  upon  the  pair  in  front  of  her.  He  could 
be  quite  sure  they  were  not  talking  of  him,  for 
they  were  laughing  merrily,  and  Bob  came  up  as 
if  to  ask  what  it  was  about.  Mrs.  Munro  handed 
Erica  a  parcel,  very  much  as  if  saying, — 
"  There,  my  dear,  take  that  to  your  mother." 
Erica  took  the  parcel  and  walked  away  leisurely, 
while  Perry  Munro  turned  from  his  plough  to  wave 
his  hat,  and  Uncle  John  dropped  a  fence  rail  on  the 
toes  of  his  brother  Joseph. 

Jessie  turned  and  went  back  into  the  house  with 
her  mother,  and  her  hidden  observer  lowered  his 
"binocular"  without  uttering  a  sound.  He  had 
been  spoken  to  again,  but  not  by  Remorse  or  Re- 
pentance; only  by  fierce,  absorbing  Passion,  and 
mingled  with  the  overmastering  counsels  of  that 
voice  had  been  utterances  most  searching  and  most 
galling.  He  stood  there  as  a  spy  in  a  thicket ;  an 
outlaw;  a  branded  man;  an  ex-convict;  a  felon 
once  driven  from  the  presence  of  those  very  women 
as  unfit  for  their  society;  and  these  withering 
memories  came  to  converse  with  him  while  he 
looked  upon  the  radiant  face  of  the  girl  he  was  in 
love  with.  They  came  to  say  to  him,  "  It  might 


AMONG   THE  BUSHES.  257 

have  been,"  and  when  he  replied,  with  an  oath, 
"  It  shall  be,"  they  pointed  at  the  record  of  his  evil 
life  and  asked  him,  "  What  about  this  ?  "Will  she 
not  surely  know  some  day  ?" 

The  strange  perversity  of  blunted  human  nature 
enabled  him  to  reply  and  to  believe  it,  "  She  will 
not  care  after  we  are  married.  Any  woman  takes 
her  husband's  part." 

Still,  there  was  gall  and  wormwood  in  the  social 
fact  that  he  dared  not  walk  on  to  the  house  and 
make  a  lover's  visit  to  Jessie.  He  hardly  sent  a 
thought  after  Erica.  He  had  only  been  in  love 
with  her  for  a  few  days,  and  all  her  beauty  was 
nothing  to  him  now.  It  was  a  marvel  how 
thoroughly  all  the  forces  of  his  emotional  nature 
had  become  concentrated  upon  one  object,  and 
there  was  no  one  to  explain  it  to  him. 

It  had  an  easy  explanation.  He  had  by  no 
means  lost  the  capacity  for  loving,  and  beyond  a 
doubt  he  was  in  love  as  utterly  as  was  at  all  possi- 
ble for  him.  Jessie  represented  to  him  all  his  idea 
of  womanhood,  but  that  was  not  all.  It  was  as  if 
in  her  he  saw  the  social  standing,  the  honor,  the 
entire  world  of  human  life  and  hope  that  he  had 
thrown  away,  and  as  if  in  obtaining  her  he  might 
regain  it,  in  defiance  of  the  laws  which  govern 
human  events. 

Otherwise,  his  mad  vanity  and  self-worship  told 
him  he  was  a  wronged,  persecuted  man,  with  a 

r  22* 


258  RED  BEAUTY. 

vengeful  right  to  destroy  whatever  or  whoever 
might  prevent.  There  was  murder  in  his  heart 
and  in  his  face  as  he  drew  back  among  the  hazels. 
The  rabbit  believed  himself  sought  for  and  sprang 
away  in  needless  haste,  but  Jerry  followed  him 
slowly,  saying  to  himself, — 

"  I  wonder  if  that  old  Potawatamy  is  around  yet. 
He'd  be  in  the  way,  if  he  is,  and  I  must  have  him 
wiped  out." 

He  hardly  imagined  how  perfectly  the  "old 
Potawatamy"  understood  his  relations  to  Pawnees 
in  general,  and  to  that  lot  of  them  in  particular. 

A  good  look  at  him,  only  a  little  while  after 
Jerry  had  turned  away  from  studying  Chumley's 
house,  might  have  conveyed  valuable  information. 

Chumley  had  not  been  seen,  simply  because  he 
was  inside  of  the  house,  in  his  own  room,  sitting 
at  his  writing-desk  as  if  writing  a  letter,  with 
another  letter  open  before  him. 

He  had  just  said,  seeming  to  read  what  he  had 
written, — 

"  Many  thanks  for  the  draft,  but  my  plans  are 
undergoing  a  change.  I  do  not  say  what  they  are, 
but " 

There  he  stopped,  for  he  heard  a  sound  in  the 
other  room. 

"  Ugh !    House !     Where  Chumley  ?" 

"Are  you  back  again?  Come  in.  What's  up 
now?" 


1  What  is  it?      Who?" 


AMONG    THE  BUSHES.  259 

Red  Beauty  stood  in  the  door-way,  having  made 
his  stealthy  way  in  unseen,  and  the  very  dogs  knew 
him  so  well  that  they  made  no  fuss  in  broad  day- 
light over  his  comings  or  goings.  It  might  have 
been  another  thing  after  dark,  for  dogs  have  even- 
ing notions  of  their  own.  The  old  Indian  "did  not 
seem  to  have  changed  a  hair  of  his  head  or  a  stitch 
of  his  raiment,  and  his  weird  face  had  an  abso- 
lutely wooden  expression  as  he  drew  aside  his 
blanket  and  took  out  something  it  had  hidden. 

Chumley  was  not  so  wooden,  for  he  sprang  to 
his  feet  exclaiming,  almost  excitedly, — 

"What  is  it?    Who?" 

"  Ugh !  One  more  Pawnee.  Bed  Beauty  great 
chief.  Find  other  one  pretty  soon.  Good !  Chum- 
ley  keep  eye  open.  Pawnee  come." 

"  Where  did  it  happen  ?" 

"  Ugh !  Chumley  ask  too  much  question.  Some- 
body ask  him  some  day.  He  say  'Don't  know.' 
Chumley  heap  fool.  Not  know  how  lie." 

"  I  won't  be  fool  enough  to  ask  how  you  got  that 
scalp,  then.  The  blood  on  it  is  hardly  dry  yet. 
Does  it  mean  danger  coming  ?" 

"  One  danger  gone.  See  ?  Ugh !  More  come. 
Chumley  'calp  loose  now.  Go  off  pretty  soon. 
Keep  eye  open  for  knife." 

That  was  a  grisly  warning,  with  a  ghastly  illus- 
tration, but  there  was  wisdom  in  giving  up  the 
hopeless  task  of  questioning  Red  Beauty.  It  was 


260  RED  BEAUTY. 

really  just  as  well  not  to  know  the  particulars  and 
incidents  of  an  ancient  feud  among  the  unforgiving 
red  men.  Such  feuds  exist  and  always  have  been, 
from  the  oldest  days  of  savage  life.  They  are 
bloody  types  of  the  centuries-old  hates  between 
great  nations  of  semi-civilized  white  men  calling 
themselves  also  Christians  and  inventing  wonderful 
engines  for  the  better  destruction  of  human  life. 
Red  Beauty  was  a  secretly  proud  Indian  that  day, 
but  Chumley  made  him  go  and  hide  that  scalp 
away,  somewhere,  and  wash  his  hands  before  he 
would  give  him  anything  to  eat.  He  was  rewarded 
by  the  renewed  assertion, — 

"  Chumley  heap  fool.  Jerry  McCord  'calp  him 
pretty  soon.  Red  Beauty  got  ONE  !" 

He  ate  as  a  man  with  a  clear  conscience  and  who 
had  had  neither  breakfast  nor  dinner  that  day,  and 
was  making  up  for  both.  His  host  said  to  him- 
self,— 

"  I  do  believe  he  has  earned  it,  but  I  wish  I  knew 
how  near  the  living  rascals  were.  Probably  they 
will  never  know  what  has  become  of  this  one." 

That  was  quite  likely,  but  if  they  had  been  near 
enough  to  him,  about  an  hour  before  noon  of  that 
day,  they  would  have  been  able  to  explain  the  en- 
tire puzzle  concerning  the  conduct  of  his  pony. 
The  Pawnee  whom  they  were  never  to  see  again 
had  turned  to  the  right,  just  as  the  hoofinarks  of 
his  pony  indicated,  and  had  ridden  slowly  along  till 


AMONG    THE  BUSHES.  261 

he  came  to  the  border  of  the  ravine.  Just  there  a 
rifle  cracked  among  the  trees  beyond  him,  and  a 
bullet  struck  him  so  truly  between  the  eyes  that  he 
fell  to  the  earth  without  a  sound  or  a  struggle.  In 
a  moment  more  Red  Beauty  was  kneeling  at  his 
side,  remarking  to  him, — 

"  Ugh !  Bad  Pawnee.  Know  him  long  time. 
No  more  'teal  horse.  No  more  kill  Potawatamy." 

In  another  moment  the  trophy  had  been  taken 
and  the  body  thrown  over  into  the  ravine.  Every 
visible  trace  of  the  whole  affair  was  patiently  ob- 
literated before  Red  Beauty  left  the  spot.  Even 
then  his  next  errand  was  down  into  the  ravine,  to 
pile  stones  and  brush  over  the  ghastly  remnant  of 
humanity.  After  that  he  followed  and  caught  the 
Pawnee's  pony,  mounted  and  rode  to  the  place 
where  he  deemed  it  best  to  leave  him.  It  was  easy 
to  tie  him  to  the  sapling,  to  climb  from  that  to  a 
larger  tree,  monkey-like,  and  to  drop  from  an  out- 
reaching  branch  of  that  upon  the  flat  ledge  of  rock 
whereon  moccasins  left  no  footprint  for  any  eyes 
to  follow. 

As  for  the  pony,  Red  Beauty  gave  him  up  with 
deep  regret,  but  with  an  inward  assurance  that 
whoever  was  next  found  upon  him  would  be  in- 
quired of  concerning  his  late  owner.  He  did  only 
justice  to  the  trailing  capacity  of  his  enemies, 
however,  when  he  said, — 

"  Pawnee  find  him.     Ask  him, '  Where  brave  ?' 


262  RED  BEAUTY, 

Pony  no  tell.  Brave  gone.  Devil  got  him.  Paw- 
nee take  pony  'calp  if  want  to.  No  find  Red 
Beauty  on  wrong  horse." 


CHAPTER    XXYL 

A  SCOUT  IN  THE  DAKK. 

WHEN  Red  Beauty  entered  Chumley's  house, 
Erica  was  on  a  visit  with  Jessie,  Gustav  was  in  the 
forest  getting  out  rails  for  the  Munro  fences,  and 
his  wife  was  in  the  cornfield.  She  returned  with 
an  apron-fall  of  roasting-ears  in  time  to  make 
coffee  for  Red  Beauty,  but  would  hardly  have 
poured  it  out  so  smilingly  if  she  had  known  what 
work  he  had  been  at  to  give  him  such  a  voracious 
appetite.  Still,  to  her  at  least,  his  killing  of  an- 
other Pawnee  would  not  have  been  so  dreadful  a 
stain  upon  his  private  character.  She  had  been 
very  glad  to  hear  the  report  of  his  rifle  once,  and 
could  easily  have  forgiven  him  for  using  it  in  like 
manner  again.  Not  a  syllable  did  he  breathe  to 
her,  however,  about  his  latest  exploit,  and  took  to 
his  pipe  in  silence  after  dinner. 

Chumley  brooded  long  and  deeply  over  the  news 
and  its  indications.  He  finished  his  letter  and  sat 


A  SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK.  263 

down  for  another  council  with  his  thoughts,  and 
before  long  he  said  to  himself, — 

"  I  think  at  least  Perry  should  be  told,  but  I  dis- 
like to  alarm  Jessie  and  her  mother.  I  must  go 
over  there." 

At  that  moment  Red  Beauty  came  gliding  in  to 
say,— 

"  Ugh !     Go  find  more.     Come  tell  what  find." 

"  You're  off  on  another  scout,  are  you  ?  That's 
right.  Seems  to  me  I'd  like  to  know  a  little 
more." 

"Ugh!  Chumley  shut  mouth.  Wait  Red 
Beauty  got  ONE.  Find  if  any  more  in  woods. 
Chumley  keep  eye  open  all  time.  Got  four  dog 
left." 

There  was  some  consolation  in  that,  so  far  as 
night-watches  were  concerned,  but  something  more 
than  dogs  could  do  might  now  be  demanded. 

The  old  Indian  left  the  house  and  went  away 
through  the  cornfields,  hidden  all  the  time  from 
the  eyes  of  any  possible  observer  in  the  edge  of 
the  forest.  No  man  could  guess  what  direction  he 
would  take  after  disappearing  in  the  tall,  green 
luxuriance  of  the  maize. 

Chumley  went  out  and  took  a  look  at  his  horses 
in  the  pasture-lot,  but  there  seemed  no  immediate 
reason  for  bringing  them  in.  Then  he  went  back 
to  his  room  and  inspected  his  very  good  supply  of 
arms  and  ammunition. 


264  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  I  hope  I  shall  not  have  to  try  my  skill  on  any 
human  being,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  but  Jerry  and 
his  gang  must  keep  away.  Their  blood  is  on  their 
own  heads  if  they  come  prowling  around  here. 
No  danger  of  Erica  taking  a  fool's  fancy  for  such 
a  fellow,  but  I  won't  have  her  annoyed  by  him. 
Jessie  ?" 

He  paused  there,  for  some  sudden  thought  which 
he  did  not  put  into  words  brought  a  flash  to  his 
eye  and  made  him  half  pick  up  a  revolver.  He 
drew  back  his  hand  more  quietly  and  added,  "  My 
house  is  a  sort  of  fort,  and  they  would  hardly  think 
of  an  actual  attack  nowadays.  Not  unless  they  could 
creep  in  at  night,  like  any  other  burglars.  The 
Munros  have  two  log  rooms.  Wish  all  the  rest 
was  up  and  finished.  It  will  be  before  winter,  no 
doubt,  and  all  their  stabling,  but  Bob  is  their  best 
friend  just  now,  so  far  as  their  horses  are  con- 
cerned. I'll  wait  till  I  see  Red  Beauty  again  before 
I  say  anything  to  Perry.  If  those  outcasts  really 
come  around,  they'll  try  for  me,  sure  as  you  live. 
Better  keep  my  eyes  about  me.  Open  prairie  is 
safer  for  me  than  the  timber." 

If  he  was  thinking  of  the  Munro  family,  one 
part  of  it  was  also  thinking  and  speaking  of  him. 

Erica  had  done  so  while  she  was  with  them,  and 
it  may  have  been  some  idea  she  left  behind  her 
that  caused  Mrs.  Munro  to  remark, — 

"I'm  older  than  you  or  Erica,  Jessie.     To  my 


A  SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK.  265 

mind  Mr.  Chumley  wears  a  look,  especially  at 
times  when  he's  not  speaking,  that  makes  me  feel 
as  if  he'd  seen  trouble.  He's  a  young  man,  my 
dear,  and  he  hasn't  gotten  over  it  yet." 

Jessie  was  silent  for  a  moment  and  drew  a  long 
breath  before  asking, — 

"  What  kind  of  trouble,  mother  ?" 

"Something  pretty  deep,  I  should  say.  We're 
getting  well  acquainted  with  him  and  he's  been 
here  a  great  deal,  and  yet  he  has  never  said  one 
word  about  his  family  or  friends,  or  the  part  of  the 
country  he  came  from." 

Jessie  had  not  failed  to  take  note  of  such  a  fact 
as  that  and  to  wonder  at  it  exceedingly,  but  all  she 
now  said  was, — 

"  Home  trouble,  you  mean,  mother  ?" 

"It  is  really  not  our  business,  my  dear,  except 
that  he  is  our  only  near  neighbor  and  I  wish  we 
knew  more  about  him." 

More  was  said,  and  all  of  it  was  as  nothing  com- 
pared with  the  unspoken  thoughts  of  those  two 
women,  and  both  were  aware  of  it. 

The  neighborhood  was  very  small,  and  all  the 
gossip  was  necessarily  intensified  by  concentration. 

Long  before  supper-time  Mr.  Munro  and  Uncle 
John  ceased  making  fence  because  they  had  used 
up  all  the  rails  on  hand,  but  Perry  toiled  away  at 
his  ploughing  persistently. 

"  G'lang  now !"  he  shouted  to  his  oxen.    "  Seems 

M  23 


266  &ED  BEAUTY 

to  me  I'd  like  to  see  the  whole  prairie  turned  over 
before  sundown." 

If  anything  upon  his  mind  were  goading  and 
driving  him,  he  turned  its  inner  operation  to  good 
practical  account,  externally,  and  the  hroad  ribbons 
of  sod  curled  over  and  lay  down  ready  for  the 
wheat  that  was  to  come. 

Supper-time  came  at  last,  but  nothing  came  with 
it  or  followed  it  to  mark  that  day  from  other  days 
until  after  the  last  traces  of  sunlight  had  vanished. 

The  first  thing  to  occur  after  dark  which  was 
worth  noting  was  not  taken  note  of  by  anybody. 
Away  beyond  the  brook  running  through  the 
middle  of  the  Munro  "section"  a  man  rode  out  of 
the  forest  in  a  northerly  direction,  remarking, — 

"  I'll  make  a  long  circuit,  if  it's  only  to  kill  time. 
Maybe  I'll  pick  up  something  new." 

Jerry  already  knew  about  the  Munro  improve- 
ments all  that  could  be  seen  from  the  forest,  and 
he  was  familiar  enough  with  Chumley's  place,  but 
lurking  under  trees  was  wearisome  work  for  a  man 
who  had  so  very  much  and  of  such  a  sort  in  his 
heart  and  brain.  He  was  out  on  an  all  but  aimless 
hunt,  but  he  took  precautions.  He  did  not  ride 
near  enough  to  the  house  to  announce  his  coming 
to  the  keen  ears  of  Bob,  but  he  might  have  ridden 
nearer  without  doing  so,  for  Bob  was  just  then  in 
the  stable  with  his  master. 

Perry's  ploughing  should  have  wearied  him  suf- 


A   SCOUT  IN   THE  DARK.  267 

ficiently  to  keep  him  quietly  at  home  that  evening, 
but  it  had  failed  to  do  so.  He  could  hardly  have 
told  what  was  the  matter  with  him  if  he  had  been 
asked.  Something  was,  and  other  members  of  the 
family  had  spoken  of  it. 

Uncle  John  had  gravely  mentioned  malaria,  and 
had  suggested  quinine  and  five  other  remedies. 
Mrs.  Munro  had  shaken  her  head  dubiously  in 
reply,  and  so  had  Jessie,  and  it  was  to  the  expres- 
sion of  their  faces  and  not  to  Uncle  John  that  Mr. 
Munro  replied,  sharply, — 

"  He  may  be  lonely.  Perhaps  he  is,  but  he  is 
not  discontented.  Let  him  alone.  I  had  just  such 
turns  when  I  was  of  his  age.  I  got  to  writing 
poetry  once,  and  it  stuck  to  me  for  six  months. 
He  isn't  as  bad  as  that  yet,  by  any  means.  Let 
him  alone." 

So  they  did,  and  when  he  said  he  guessed  he 
would  take  a  ride,  nobody  interfered  or  told  him 
what  an  odd  idea  it  was.  Jessie  was  even  more 
considerate,  and  said  he  had  taken  a  night  for  it 
when  the  stars  were  splendid. 

That  was  true,  but  it  was  dark  enough  on  the 
prairie,  in  spite  of  all  that  the  stars  could  do.  A 
man  on  foot,  or  even  a  horse,  could  not  be  seen  at 
twenty  paces  distance.  That  was  the  estimate  made 
by  Jerry  McCord  when  he  dismounted  upon  the 
Pawnee  Trail,  a  little  later,  at  a  place  on  a  line  from 
the  Munro  house  to  Chumley's.  He  could  see  the 


268  RED  BEAUTY. 

faint  glimmer  of  a  light  in  the  latter,  and  lie  added 
a  savage  remark  about  dogs  to  the  words,  "  All  at 
home,  I  suppose.  We  shall  hardly  get  at  him  there. 
I  don't  know  why  I  should  go  any  nearer,  but  I 
will." 

There  was  a  wide  reach  of  untouched  prairie 
grass  between  him  and  Chumley's  nearest  fence, 
and  into  this  he  rode  on  and  dismounted.  A  lariat- 
peg  stamped  into  the  ground  was  left  to  hold  his 
horse  for  him  while  he  went  nearer  the  house  which 
contained  Erica,  and  to  the  stables  and  yard  wherein 
so  many  desirable  horses  and  mules  were  gathered. 
He  might  have  thought  more  graspingly  of  either 
at  an  earlier  day,  but  his  love  for  Erica  had  been 
driven  out  by  a  stronger  passion,  and  he  had  not  for 
years  felt  so  little  like  taking  another  man's  horses. 
He  would  have  given  more  for  a  safe  shot  at  Chum- 
ley  just  then  than  for  the  best  animal  owned  by 
either  of  them. 

The  night  was  warm,  and  as  the  prowler  drew 
stealthily  nearer  he  saw  that  the  door  stood  wide 
open.  All  of  that  household  who  were  at  home 
were  too  much  at  peace  to  be  in  fear,  and  they 
had  no  dream  of  prying  eyes  out  there  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

Nearer  drew  the  bitter-hearted  spy,  as  near  as  he 
might  without  a  certainty  of  rousing  Chumley's 
dogs,  and  now  a  glass  was  helpful  in  bringing  the 
interior  of  the  house  before  him.  The  very  lamp 


A  SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK.  269 

upon  the  table  seemed  to  send  out  a  whiter  and 
brighter  glow  because  of  what  it  shone  upon. 

Chumley  was  not  there,  and  Gustav  Eagleson 
was  reading  to  his  wife  and  daughter  from  a  huge 
leather-bound  volume  with  heavy  brass  clasps.  It 
was  some  massive  book  that  he  had  brought  with 
him  over  sea  from  the  fatherland  of  the  Norse- 
man. 

Jerry  McCord  had  never  looked  upon  just  such 
a  scene  before,  and  he  gazed  in  silence  till  the  read- 
ing ended  and  the  reader  and  the  listeners  all  knelt 
down. 

"  If  that  isn't  awful !"  burst  hoarsely  from  the 
lips  of  the  outlaw.  "  They're  praying.  They  be- 
lieve in  God,  and  there  isn't  any." 

He  had  hardly  repeated  the  felon's  creed  when  a 
trampling  near  him  made  him  suddenly  turn  and 
then  crouch  low  among  the  grass  and  weeds.  He 
was  not  any  too  prompt,  although  the  eyes  which 
might  have  discovered  him  were  otherwise  intently 
occupied.  Perilously  near  the  crouching  thief  in 
the  grass  sat  a  man  on  horseback,  gazing  with  ab- 
sorbed earnestness  upon  the  family  group,  the  up- 
turned bearded  face  of  the  father,  the  bowed  head 
of  the  mother,  and  the  golden  hair  of  the  daughter, 
upon  which  the  light  of  the  lamp  streamed  so  joy- 
ously as  if  taking  a  pleasure  in  doing  so. 

Perry  Munro  had  brought  a  double-barrelled  gun 
with  him,  without  any  assignable  reason  whatever, 

23* 


270  RED   BEAUTY. 

but  he  was  not  at  all  likely  to  look  for  any  mark 
down  there  among  the  shadows.  He  looked  until  he 
saw  what  Jerry  now  could  not  see.  All  three  there 
in  the  house  arose  and  stood  together  between  the 
table  and  the  door,  and  in  a  moment  even  the 
prowler  felt  a  thrill  from  head  to  foot.  It  seemed  to 
him,  just  as  it  did  to  Perry,  that  he  had  never  in  his 
life  heard  music  more  wonderful  than  that  Swedish 
evening  hymn,  sung  by  those  voices.  Had  he  been 
nearer  he  could  not  have  understood  the  words, 
but  it  was  all  the  same.  Some  subtle  meaning  in 
them  floated  out  across  the  prairie  and  found  him 
and  went  down  into  his  darkened  soul,  searching 
for  some  memory  to  which  it  was  akin,  and  it  found 
one.  That  forgotten  thing  in  Jerry's  mind  was 
very  faint  and  formless,  but  enough  of  life  was 
stirred  in  it  to  make  it  whisper  to  him, — 

"  If  there  is  a  place  hereafter,  where  all  is  light 
and  beauty  and  holiness  and  peace  and  wonderful 
song,  you  will  never  look  into  it  except  from  some 
place  reserved  for  evil  beings,  away  outside,  in  the 
dark.  You  do  not  belong  by  the  Book  and  all 
that  cleanness." 

Stabbed  into  him  again  was  the  bitter  assurance 
which  had  been  haunting  him  all  day,  and  again 
the  hot  blood  surged  to  his  heart  in  a  deadly  de- 
termination, expressed  in  hisses  of  inaudible  pro- 
fanity, that  he  would  do  any  violence,  commit  any 
crime,  dare  any  peril,  that  he  might  break  through 


A  SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK.  271 

the  social  wall  which  he  perceived  to  be  shutting 
him  out.  He  was  more  than  ever  possessed,  as  by 
a  demon,  with  the  delusion  that  the  owner  of  a 
large  and  well-stocked  farm,  the  husband  of  such 
a  beautiful  wife  as  Jessie  Munro,  himself  fine-look- 
ing, educated,  and  of  uncommon  abilities,  would 
be  no  longer  Jerry  McCord  the  white  Pawnee,  but 
Mr.  Edward  Payne  and  a  very  different  kind  of 
human  being,  in  his  own  eyes  and  in  the  eyes  of 
all  men.  So  he  was  more  in  love  than  ever. 

Perry  Munro  had  no  such  trouble  on  his  mind, 
but  he  had  an  uneasy  feeling  that  he  was  all  but 
playing  the  spy.  He  did  not  turn  his  eyes  away, 
however,  and  when  the  hymn  was  ended  Erica 
came  to  the  door  and  looked  up  at  the  stars. 
Whatever  answer  they  made  her,  she  turned  back 
into  the  house,  and  Perry  rode  away.  He  had 
seen  and  heard  enough  for  one  evening,  and  yet 
his  adventures  were  by  no  means  over.  Neither 
were  those  of  Jerry  McCord. 

"No  man,  red  or  white,  could  long  remain  quiet 
under  such  circumstances  as  had  that  day  been  dis- 
covered by  the  survivor  of  the  pair  of  Pawnee 
spies.  He  had  both  lost  his  comrade  and  found 
the  lost  brave's  pony  while  spying  after  the  move- 
ments of  Jerry  McCord,  the  distrusted  captain  of 
his  own  band.  He  had  found  a  safe  covert  after- 
wards and  had  eaten  a  late  dinner  there,  but  even 
while  eating  he  had  been  thinking  profoundly. 


272  RED  BEAUTY. 

He  now  again  recalled  the  brave  who  had  been  dis- 
covered by  Jerry  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  in  the 
camp,  with  no  man  to  tell  how  he  came  to  be  dead. 

"Ugh!"  he  said.  "Jerry  know.  Now  other 
brave  gone.  Keep  eye  open  for  Jerry.  Heap 
snake." 

It  looked  badly,  considered  by  a  plains  red  man  as 
circumstantial  evidence  of  something  wrong,  and 
he  picked  up  his  rifle  with  a  gloomy  shake  of  his 
head. 

"  Ugh !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Go  find  what  Jerry 
do.  Look  out  heap !" 

He  sprang  upon  the  back  of  his  pony  and  rode 
away,  leading  the  other,  but  the  plan  he  followed 
was  thoroughly  Indian.  It  led  him  to  watch  near 
the  old  camp,  but  not  in  it,  until  he  witnessed 
Jerry's  arrival  and  departure.  After  that,  every 
step  of  the  latter  was  witnessed  at  a  safe  distance, 
up  to  the  dusky  moment  when  he  rode  out  from 
under  the  trees.  All  that  he  had  seen  of  the  im- 
provements and  the  settlers  had  also  been  seen  by 
the  Pawnee,  but  he  was  of  more  importance  than 
they,  and  it  was  a  bitterness  to  lose  sight  of  him. 
A  man  on  foot  can  hardly  chase  with  success  a  man 
on  horseback  in  the  daytime,  and  it  is  even  a 
more  tedious  affair  at  night.  Nevertheless  the 
Pawnee  did  follow,  longing  for  his  pony  and  won- 
dering vastly  what  his  "  captain"  might  be  up  to. 
The  prairie  around  Chumley's  Post  was  therefore 


A   SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK.  £73 

in  a  fair  way  to  be  thoroughly  patrolled  that  night, 
and  no  man  could  guess  with  what  consequences. 

Perry  Munro  felt  that  his  evening  ride  had  suc- 
ceeded wonderfully.  His  ears  and  eyes  were  fall 
of  what  he  had  seen  and  heard,  and  as  he  rode 
slowly  away  it  came  to  him  strongly  that  there 
could  not  he  a  safer  place  on  earth  than  the  thresh- 
old upon  which  Erica  Eagleson  had  finished  her 
evening  hymn. 

Very  likely  he  was  right,  considering  what  frail 
material  merely  human  safety  consists  of,  and  he 
did  not  dream  of  what  had  been  lurking  among 
the  rosin  weeds  while  he  had  looked  and  listened. 
Neither  did  Jerry  McCord  himself  know  all,  al- 
though well  aware  of  his  own  presence  and  Perry's. 
A  mounted  man  scouting  after  dark  does  not  ride 
rapidly,  and  a  Pawnee  warrior  can  see  a  light  as 
far  as  another. 

Gustav  Eagleson's  lamp  had  guided  more  than 
one  pair  of  feet,  and  when  Jerry  McCord  felt  sure 
that  Perry  was  far  enough  for  safety  and  arose  to 
go  for  his  horse,  a  human  form  which  did  not  rise 
but  that  travelled  well  on  all  fours  followed  him  at 
a  moderate  distance.  That  Pawnee  was  obtaining 
a  higher  opinion  of  Jerry,  however,  for  he  dis- 
cerned that  he  was  performing  precisely  the  work 
he  had  outlined  beforehand.  It  looked  very  much 
like  "  business,"  and  yet  the  watcher  again  asked 
himself, — 


274  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Got  pony, — where  brave  gone  ?  No  find  Jerry 
there." 

That  was  so.  He  had  seen  no  trace  of  Jerry's 
presence  in  that  affair,  nor  of  any  other  man.  All 
he  had  found  was  a  mysterious  disappearance  and 
a  pony  with  blood  upon  his  bridle.  At  all  events 
he  was  sure  that  Jerry  had  now  remounted  and  was 
riding  towards  the  Pawnee  Trail,  and  that  he  had 
not  spoken  to  the  other  white  horseman.  That 
man's  presence  had  also  been  a  sore  puzzle  to  the 
Pawnee  until  an  idea  came  to  him. 

"  Ugh !"  he  said.  "  Come  'teal  young  squaw. 
Old  man  there,  old  squaw  there.  Young  squaw 
put  head  out  and  tell  him '  can't  come;'  he  go  away." 

That  had  not  been  precisely  the  meaning  of 
Erica's  appearance  in  the  door-way,  but  the  Pawnee 
did  not  understand  Swedish  customs. 

Perry  Munro  had  ridden  slowly,  as  if  his  horse 
felt  solemn  about  something,  but  it  did  not  take 
him  long  to  get  very  near  Chumley's  Post 

A  low  whinny  of  another  horse  asking  a  question 
of  his  own  made  him  suddenly  lift  his  head  and 
peer  forward  into  the  gloom.  The  starlight  re- 
vealed to  him  a  sort  of  a  mounted  shadow  close  by 
the  thin  ghost  of  the  hickory  landmark. 

It  seemed  to  Perry  as  if  all  the  wild  stories  he 
had  heard  since  he  came  upon  that  prairie  flashed 
through  his  brain  in  one  hot  warning  of  danger. 
His  blood  tingled  to  his  very  heels  as  he  dug  them 


A  SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK.  275 

into  his  horse's  ribs,  and  as  the  astonished  beast 
sprang  forward  he  heard  his  rider  demand, — 

"Who's  there?" 

"  Halt !"  came  back  for  answer.  Perry  had  never 
before  known  any  words  of  his  own  to  sound  so 
marvellously  deep,  ringing,  threatening.  It  was  for 
that  reason  that  they  had  not  been  recognized,  and 
the  response  had  been  deeper  and  sterner,  and  with 
it  he  saw  the  starlight  glitter  upon  a  levelled  line 
of  polished  metal.  He  drew  his  rein  with  sudden 
strength,  checking  his  horse  not  more  than  two 
lengths  from  the  mouth  of  a  double-barrelled  gun. 

"  Perry  Munro  ?" 

"  Chumley !" 

"  Thank  God  that  I  did  not  fire !" 

There  was  a  world  of  intense  feeling  in  that  ex- 
clamation, and  it  occurred  to  Perry  that  if  an  enemy 
had  been  there  instead  of  a  friend  his  own  rashness 
would  but  have  thrown  his  life  away.  He  had  not 
so  much  as  thought  of  his  gun,  so  complete  had 
been  his  surprise.  He  was  altogether  raw  to  the 
methods  and  exigencies  of  any  kind  of  warfare,  and 
all  he  could  now  say  was, — 

"  What's  up  ?" 

"  Ride  closer.  No  man  can  guess  whose  ears  are 
around.  What  brought  you  out  ?  Have  you  seen 
anything  out  of  the  way  ?  Have  you  met  anybody  ?" 

"Haven't  seen  a  thing.  Haven't  met  a  soul. 
I  was  out  for  a  ride.  Is  there  anything  going  on  ?" 


276  RED  BEAUTY. 

"I'm  trying  to  find  out,  and  we'd  better  keep 
still  about  it  until  we  know  more.  Red  Beauty 
will  be  back  from  the  timber  in  the  morning." 

"  Yes,  but  what  is  it  all  ?"  asked  Perry,  half  ex- 
citedly. 

"  Some  of  Jerry  McCord's  Pawnees  are  back 
again.  How  many  or  what  for  I  don't  know. 
Most  likely  he  is  with  them,  or  if  he  isn't  he  will 
be." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  Are  you  sure  of  it  ?  Have 
you  seen  them  ?" 

"  Keep  a  secret,  Perry  ?     On  honor  ?" 

"  I  will.     On  my  honor." 

"  Well,  then,  I  haven't  seen  a  single  Pawnee,  but 
I  have  seen  a  scalp  of  one  of  them,  taken  since 
breakfast.  I  didn't  take  it,  and  you'd  better  only 
guess  who  did." 

"  I  can  guess." 

"Your  place  is  safe  yet,  and  so  is  mine." 

"The  dogs  were  quiet  when  I  rode  by.  !Nonn 
of  our  folks  are  in  bed  yet." 

"  Go  to  the  house  and  have  a  nice  evening  of  it. 
I'll  scout  around." 

"I  guess  not,"  said  Perry,  indignantly.  "It's  as 
much  my  duty  as  it  is  yours.  I'd  scout  all  night  to 
come  across  one  of  those " 

"  Hark !"  rasped  Chumley.  "  Get  your  gun 
ready.  Ride !  Keep  together.  Ha !  Hear  that  ?" 

Galloping  hoofs  had  gone  past  them  in  the  dark- 


A   SCOUT  IN  THE  DARK.  277 

ness  and  were  now  beyond  them,  as  their  horses 
bounded  forward,  side  by  side.  Seconds  only 
elapsed  before  somebody  fired  a  shot,  and  the  re- 
port was  followed  by  a  yet  more  thrilling  sound  rail 
of  evil  omen. 

"  Perry,"  said  Chumley,  "  that  was  a  Pawnee 
war-whoop.  They  are  here.  Shoot  at  anything 
you  see." 

Whoever  heard  was  likely  to  understand  that 
warning,  for  it  rang  out  with  a  sharpness  which 
Perry  remembered  respectfully  afterwards  and 
spoke  of  to  Jessie  when  he  met  her.  At  that 
moment  he  obeyed  with  a  promptness  which  be- 
longed somewhat  to  his  very  rawness  and  inexpe- 
rience. He  may  or  may  not  have  seen  a  moving 
shadow  or  heard  a  rustle  in  the  grass.  Up  came 
his  gun  all  the  same,  and  the  buckshot  of  one 
barrel  went  hurtling  into  the  night. 

"  Hold  your  other  load !     What  did  you  see  ?" 

"  I  can't  say." 

"  It  was  right  to  let  drive  anyhow,  if  only  to  let 
them  know  we're  out  after  them  and  mean  business. 
I  suppose  you  needn't  pull  trigger  on  Jerry  McCord 
at  sight,  but  I  must." 

"  After  what  happened  at  our  place  ?" 

"  And  what  he  did  at  mine.  One  of  us  has  got 
to  go  under." 

"  Mr.  Chumley,  if  I  get  a  chance  I  think  my  gun 

would  go  off  again." 

24 


278  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  I  hope  you'll  hold  straight,  then,  for  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord  is  a  good  shot.  Pull  up.  It's  of  no  use  to 
follow  farther  in  the  dark.  We  only  heard  one 
horse.  Better  go  back  to  the  Post." 


CHAPTER    XXYIL 

A  DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD. 

JERRY  McCoRD  crouching  low  in  the  grass,  with 
his  deep  sense  of  being  cast  out,  had  recognized 
Perry  Munro,  but  had  sent  out  towards  him  no 
tendril  of  good-will  as  a  possible  brother-in-law. 
He  was  the  rather  stung  by  a  keen  perception  that 
Perry  was  a  perfect  type  of  the  men  of  rectitude 
whose  unyielding  ideas  of  manly  honor  spurned 
him  away.  He  was  part  of  the  wall  around  Jessie, 
and  stood  between  her  and  her  lover  now  in  the 
grass.  He  was  hated  exceedingly  for  that  reason, 
but  was  safe  from  present  harm  for  the  sake  of 
prudence. 

"  He's  had  a  good  look  at  Erica,"  said  Jerry  to 
himself,  "  but  so  have  I.  I  wonder  what  he's  out 
on  horseback  for  at  this  time  o'  night?  It  can't 
be  that  they've  smelt  danger  and  are  keeping  up  a 
patrol.  I  must  follow  him  and  find  out." 


A  DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD.  279 

That  was  the  reason  why  he  was  so  quickly 
mounted.  He  kept  at  what  seemed  to  him  a  safe 
distance  behind  so  very  green  a  hand  as  Perry 
Munro  must  be,  until  he  was  startled  by  the  gruff 
hails  exchanged  between  him  and  Chumley.  It  was 
instantly  evident  that  something  uncommon  was 
going  forward,  but  it  was  a  mistake  to  move  too 
fast  in  trying  to  discover  its  nature. 

Yet  another  complication  came  suddenly  in  at 
this  moment.  The  Pawnee  on  foot  had  been  able 
to  come  as  closely  as  concealment  permitted,  while 
the  leader  upon  whose  conduct  he  was  spying 
watched  the  scene  at  Chumley's  house.  He  be- 
lieved that  he  understood  all,  and  when  Jerry 
remounted  he  followed  him  again  without  any 
blundering  until  he  also  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
pair  of  horsemen  at  the  Post.  That  sight  drew 
from  him  an  astonished  "  Ugh !"  and  Jerry  heard 
the  sound,  a  little  at  his  left  and  behind  him,  with 
a  startled  exclamation.  The  two  incautious  utter- 
ances reached  the  ears  of  Chumley  together,  just 
as  Jerry  spurred  out  of  what  seemed  to  him  a 
kind  of  trap.  He  drew  a  pistol  as  he  did  so,  and 
fired  wildly  at  something  human  on  foot  which 
bounded  forward  at  the  same  moment,  and  was 
answered  by  a  war-whoop.  He  was  no  novice, 
however,  in  the  ways  and  wiles  of  prairie  warfare. 
While  yet  he  had  a  start  of  his  pursuers  he  wheeled 
at  right  angles  with  the  course  upon  which  he  had 


280  RED  BEAUTY. 

first  ridden,  and  then,  at  the  foot  of  the  first  roll 
over  which  he  galloped,  he  suddenly  reined  in  his 
horse  and  dismounted.  His  left  hand  was  on  the 
animal's  nose  to  prevent  a  sound,  and  his  right  held 
a  revolver.  It  was  a  very  picturesque  posture  of 
horse  and  man,  had  there  been  light  enough  to  do 
it  justice,  but  its  main  beauty  for  Jerry  was  in  the 
fact  that  Chumley  and  Perry  rode  past  him  within 
a  short  distance  without  imagining  that  they  had 
done  so.  The  adventure,  as  a  whole,  had  don*e 
Jerry  some  good,  for  it  had  thoroughly  convinced 
the  Pawnee  he  had  shot  at  that  his  distrusted  cap- 
tain was  at  war  with  that  lot  of  pale-faces. 

"Ugh!  Good.  No  see  Pawnee.  No  hit  him. 
Where  gone  now  ?  Ugh  !" 

His  keen  ears  told  him  that  the  sound  of  Jerry's 
horse's  hoofs  had  ceased  too  soon,  and  he  prowled 
on  like  a  wolf  until  he  heard  those  of  the  two  re- 
turning riders. 

"No  find  Jerry.  Ugh!  Good.  Pawnee  find 
him.  Say  all  right." 

An  Indian  could  find  something  to  admire  in  an 
escape  like  that,  while  Chumley  and  Perry  found  it 
only  mysterious  and  vexatious.  By  the  time  they 
were  back  at  the  Post,  Jerry  McCord  felt  secure  in 
remounting,  and,  as  he  did  so,  there  arose  from 
the  earth  close  by  him  the  same  piercing,  thrill- 
ing sound  which  had  replied  to  his  random  pistol- 
shot 


A  DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD.  281 

"There!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  thought  I  knew 
that  whoop.  Black  Wolf?" 

"Ugh!"  responded  a  dark  form  which  came 
stalking  near  to  hold  out  a  hand.  "  Black  "Wolf 
come  help  Jerry.  Leave  pony  in  woods.  What 
do  now  ?" 

"  Come  along.  Back  to  the  woods.  All  these 
people  keep  their  eyes  open." 

"Ugh!  What  for?  Think  Pawnee  come? 
Jerry  want  more  Pawnee,  that  all.  'Teal  heap 
horse.  Get  mule.  Jerry  all  right  now.  Black 
Wolf  go  tell  all  brave  come  along." 

He  was  well  able  to  keep  up  with  a  walking 
horse,  and  the  two  wolves  went  on  towards  the 
woods  together. 

That  second  war-whoop  had  been  uttered  just  as 
Perry  Munro  and  Chumley  reached  the  Post,  and 
the  latter  remarked, — 

"Do  you  hear  that?  Whoever  they  are  they 
have  given  it  up  for  to-night.  They've  made  up 
their  minds  we're  wide  awake.  We  can  do  no 
more  out  here  in  the  dark.  Come  on  to  my  house 
and  then  go  to  yours.  Keep  still  about  that  scalp." 

"  I  will.  Do  you  think  there  is  any  danger  of 
their  making  a  night  attack  ?" 

"  Not  th6  least  in  all  the  world.  These  fellows 
are  mere  horse-thieves  and  cowardly  highwaymen. 
The  Pawnee  tribe  is  at  perfect  peace,  and  gets  its 
annuities  regularly.  This  is  a  lot  of  vagabonds; 

24* 


282  RED  BEAUTY 

runaways ;  outlaws.  They've  no  notion  of  being 
shot  at  from  behind  logs.  Indians  are  the  poorest 
kind  of  burglars.  They'd  hardly  make  a  living  at 
anything  if  it  wasn't  for  what  your  government 
does  for  them." 

Perry  noted,  half  unconsciously,  the  expression 
"  your  government,"  but  his  reply  was, — 

"I  suppose  they  do  better  guided  by  a  sharp 
white  man  like  this  fellow  McCord." 

"  Of  course  they  do.  Dismount  and  come  in 
with  me  for  a  minute  when  we  get  to  the  house. 
You  hardly  know  what  a  fort  it  is." 

"  I  will,  and  we'll  make  some  improvements  on 
ours." 

"  Fences  and  stable  doors  and  another  dog  like 
Bob,"  said  Chumley. 

They  had  ridden  rapidly  while  talking,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  all  the  dogs  tied  up  at  his 
house  loudly  announced  that  they  had  heard  the 
approaching  hoofs  this  time.  As  the  pair  of  horse- 
men drew  nearer  the  gate,  the  three  inmates  came 
hurriedly  out,  and  it  was  also  evident  that  they  had 
first  untied  the  dogs. 

"  That  kind  of  noise,"  said  Chumley,  "  is  warn- 
ing to  any  kind  of  thief.  It  tells  him  his  coming 
is  known." 

Perry  sprang  to  the  ground  and  fastened  his 
horse  while  Chumley  led  his  own  through  the  gate, 
and  the  former  determined  to  let  the  latter  tell  the 


A   DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD.  283 

story  of  their  adventure,  as  much  or  as  little  of  it 
as  he  might  choose. 

It  was  made  somewhat  brief,  but  all  Chumley's 
care  could  not  conceal  the  fact  that  there  were 
enemies  in  the  neighborhood.  Gustav  showed 
his  fine  range  of  white  teeth,  and  his  blue  eyes 
glittered.  He  may  have  been  a  forgiving  man,  but 
something  he  said  indicated  that  he  had  an  account 
to  settle  with  the  tribe  of  Pawnees  yet,  in  spite  of 
the  little  graveyard  down  at  the  Post.  He  and  his 
wife  exchanged  glances,  and  the  shake  of  her  head 
indicated  that  she  understood  him.  Something  in 
Erica's  face,  as  she  listened,  might  easily  have  been 
interpreted : 

"  We  need  not  be  afraid.  "We  shall  be  perfectly 
safe  with  so  much  protection  as  we  have."  It  was 
full  of  enthusiastic  confidence  in  the  prowess  of  at 
least  one  member  of  that  "  patrol." 

Chumley's  invitation  to  Perry  must  have  been  a 
mere  subterfuge,  for  he  and  Gustav  walked  off  to 
the  stables  and  Mrs.  Eagleson  followed  them,  leav- 
ing Perry  alone  with  Erica.  It  was  on  his  mind 
that  he  ought  to  say  something  reassuring,  if  he 
could  find  the  proper  shape  to  put  it  in,  and  she 
also  was  silent  for  a  moment  as  if  hunting  the  best 
words  for  a  difficult  thought. 

They  came  to  her  after  a  fashion,  and  she  looked 
at  him  earnestly  as  she  asked  him,  or  herself,  the 
question, — 


284  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Perry,  I  did  not  think  of  it  while  Mr.  Chum- 
ley  was  talking, — what  if  the  Pawnees  killed  you  ?" 

"  No  danger  of  that,  I  guess.  They  might  kill 
Chumley,  too." 

"  No  danger  ?"  she  exclaimed,  as  if  the  idea  grew 
upon  her.  "  They  shoot !  They  murder !  Did  I 
not  see  them  once  ?  It  was  horrible !  They  meant 
to  kill  us  all." 

"  Chumley  can  shoot  better  than  he  could  then," 
said  Perry,  with  an  effort  at  cheerfulness.  He 
thought  her  face  was  more  than  ordinarily  beautiful 
in  its  keen  expression  of  anxiety  for  the  present 
and  of  horror  at  that  black  memory.  She  now 
arose  from  the  chair  in  which  she  had  been  sitting. 

"  I  must  speak  to  Mr.  Chumley,"  she  said.  "  He 
must  let  you  ride  home  at  once.  They  may  have 
followed.  What  if  they  had,  Perry  ?" 

"  Don't  worry  about  me,  Erica.  It  isn't  easy  to 
hit  a  man  on  horseback  in  the  dark,"  replied  Perry, 
but  he  was  aware  of  an  extremely  pleasant  sensation. 
He  had  not  thought,  up  to  that  moment,  how  very 
nice  it  might  be  to  have  a  young  woman  anxious 
about  him. 

She  went  for  Chumley  without  another  word,  but 
he  agreed  with  Perry  that  the  ride  home  would  be 
entirely  safe.  They  all  stood  in  the  door  and  on 
the  step  to  bid  him  good-night,  but  the  last  words 
he  really  heard  were, — 

"  Ride  fast,  Perry.    Please  do !" 


A   DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD.  285 

She  had  sent  him  out  of  the  house  and  compelled 
him  to  go  home,  but  he  nevertheless  rode  away 
with  a  strong  feeling  that  he  would  like  nothing 
better,  that  night,  than  to  ride  around  after  Paw- 
nees and  kill  a  few  and  get  himself  wounded  a 
little  in  defence  of  at  least  a  part  of  the  contents 
of  Chumley's  house. 

That  gentleman  quieted  the  excitement  of  his 
household  as  speedily  as  he  could  after  Perry's  de- 
parture. He  compelled  the  Eaglesons  to  go  to 
their  own  rooms,  tied  up  all  his  dogs,  and  took  a 
last  look  at  the  doors  and  windows  of  the  house 
and  stable.  Then  he  put  out  his  own  lamp  and  lay 
down,  rally  dressed,  upon  a  rug  of  wolf-skins  in 
the  middle  of  his  front-room  floor. 

"  Somehow  or  other,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  feel 
better  here  than  on  my  bed.  It's  an  eccentricity." 

It  was  not  so  much  that  as  the  one  evidence  he 
had  given  of  being  under  any  excitement  whatever, 
and  not  made  of  wood  or  iron.  It  was  perfectly 
safe  for  him  to  sleep  soundly  until  he  should  hear 
from  his  dogs  or  from  daylight,  and  before  long  he 
was  doing  so. 

Of  all  in  that  house,  however,  Gustav  was  asleep 
first  and  Erica  last,  and  even  after  her  eyelids  closed 
they  came  apart  again,  as  if  she  were  trying  to  keep 
them  open  and  listen. 

Perry  Munro  went  home  with  an  expectation  of 
finding  his  family  all  abed  and  asleep  and  only  Bob 


286  RED  BEAUTY. 

sitting  up  for  him,  but  he  was  mistaken.  The 
windows,  as  he  rode  up,  looked  as  if  every  lamp 
in  the  house  were  lighted,  and  he  was  loudly  hailed 
by  Uncle  John  from  the  stable  door : 

"  Is  that  you,  Perry  ?" 

"  What's  the  matter,  Uncle  John  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,  but  I  wish  I  had  loaded 
this  gun  before  I  left  the  house.  Have  you  been 
anywhere  ?  Is  there  anything  up  ?" 

He  was  plainly  disturbed,  but  he  failed  to  ex- 
plain why,  and  it  was  not  until  Perry  reached  the 
house  that  he  was  made  to  comprehend  the  situation. 

The  disturbance  was  in  great  part  the  work  of 
Bob.  He  had  been  shut  up  in  the  stable  uninten- 
tionally by  Perry,  when  that  somewhat  absent- 
minded  young  man  rode  away,  and  had  behaved 
himself  so  quietly  that  nobody  knew  or  cared 
where  he  was  until  about  an  hour,  or  less,  before 
his  master's  return.  Then,  all  at  once,  the  entire 
Munro  family  had  been  led  to  exclaim,  as  with  one 
voice, — 

"  What  can  be  the  matter  ?" 

They  all  knew  that  Uncle  John  replied  correctly 
when  he  added, — 

"  That's  Bob.  Something  has  disturbed  him. 
We  had  better  get  up  and  ascertain  what  he  means 
by  it." 

Bob  did  not  know  or  say.  He  had  a  clear  idea 
that  wickedness  of  some  sort  was  sneaking  around 


A   DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD.  287 

his  premises,  and  lie  hurled  out  at  it  the  utmost 
vehemence  of  his  canine  denunciation.  His  least 
snarl,  as  he  tried  to  paw  his  way  out  of  that  stable, 
threatened  ruin  to  somebody,  while  his  loudest  roar 
of  barking  offered  a  study  of  expressive  sound.  It 
meant  all  that  could  be  said  by  a  large  and  angry 
watch-dog  shut  up. 

Mr.  Munro  and  Uncle  John  should  have  dressed 
more  rapidly,  for  before  Bob  grew  at  all  quiet  a  lady 
in  a  very  white  dress  unlocked  the  stable  door  and 
let  him  out,  and  he  sprang  away  with  a  savage 
growl  to  search  and  patrol  all  the  darkness  at  all 
near  the  house.  Mrs.  Munro  had  been  followed  by 
the  rest  of  the  family,  and  afterwards  Uncle  John 
had  gone  out  with  his  empty  gun,  but  Bob  did  not 
reappear  until  he  heard  Perry's  whistle.  He 
obeyed  that  promptly  enough,  whatever  may  have 
been  his  regret  that  he  had  nothing  to  fetch  in 
with  him.  Such,  for  instance,  as  a  wolf  or  a  stray 
Pawnee,  for  something  evil  had  been  around  that 
house,  and  Bob  would  have  given  many  bones  to 
have  known  precisely  what  it  was. 

Jerry  McCord  could  have  told  him,  for  he  had 
warned  his  red  associate  not  to  scout  too  near  the 
Munro  house,  and  not  to  create  the  very  state  of 
suspicious  watchfulness  that  was  now  sure  to  result. 
That  Pawnee  had  an  inadequate  idea  of  Robert 
Munro's  nose  and  ears  until  he  was  forced  to  ex- 
claim,— 


288  RED  BEAUTY. 

"Ugh!  Heap  loud  dog.  Ugh!  Heap  mouth 
go  off!  Black  Wolf  no  want  him."  And  with  that 
assurance  deepening  in  his  mind  he  had  hurried 


Bob  was  now  apparently  satisfied  that  the  cause 
of  his  temporary  excitement  had  left  the  neighbor- 
hood. He  took  Uncle  John's  place  at  the  stable 
door  without  any  gun,  but  such  weapons  as  he  had 
were  in  first-rate  fighting  order. 

Mrs.  Munro  told  Perry  all  she  knew,  and  asked 
him,  with  an  anxious  look  into  something  very  new 
in  his  face, — 

"  What  could  have  made  Bob  so  very  furious  ? 
Have  you  any  idea  ?" 

"  Mother,"  he  replied,  slowly,  "  I  can't  say.  It 
may  have  been  Jerry  McCord  and  it  may  have 
been  a  Pawnee,  but  I  can  tell  you  one  thing, — I've 
heard  a  Pawnee  war-whoop !" 

Uncle  John  was  in  the  very  act  of  taking  up  a 
cartridge  to  put  into  his  gun,  but  all  the  rest  had 
been  getting  more  and  more  calm  until  they  heard 
that  remarkable  assertion.  Mrs.  Munro  sharply 
exclaimed, — 

"  Oh,  Perry !     My  son  !" 

Jessie  sprang  to  her  feet  and  came  close  to  her 
brother  to  ask  him, — 

"A  Pawnee?  Where  was  he?  What  did  he 
do  ?  Did  you  see  him  ?" 

Mr.  Munro  walked  straight  across  the  room  after 


A  DISTURBED  HOUSEHOLD.  289 

the  boots  he  had  just  kicked  off,  but  Uncle  John 
very  deliberately  inquired, — 

"  A  war-whoop  ?  How  do  you  know  it  was  a 
war-whoop  ?  How  could  you  distinguish  the 
whooper's  tribe  ?" 

"I  didn't,  but  Chumley  did.  He's  heard  one 
before." 

The  story  was  begun  now,  and  he  told  it  all  very 
well,  so  far  as  it  related  to  anything  or  anybody 
but  Erica  Eagleson.  He  remembered  his  promise 
of  secrecy  as  to  the  deeds  of  Red  Beauty,  but  he 
spoke  very  strongly  of  Chumley  and  all  his  works. 

When  the  narrative  was  ended,  the  faces  around 
him  told  him  that  he  had  failed  to  give  the  situa- 
tion an  air  of  peace  and  security.  All  assurances 
from  Chumley  that  they  were  living  in  a  quiet 
neighborhood  had  a  hollow  sound.  Still,  they 
agreed  with  Uncle  John  when  he  observed, — 

"I  do  not  really  see  that  we  can  do  anything 
more  about  it  to-night." 

"  I  don't  believe  we  shall  do  any  sleeping,"  said 
Mrs.  Munro.  "  Why,  husband,  this  is  dreadful !" 

"  So  it  is,  my  dear,"  said  he. 

"  Chumley  says  it  isn't,"  persisted  Perry.  "  You 
all  go  to  bed.  I'll  lie  down,  but  I  won't  undress. 
Bob  is  the  only  fellow  that  needs  to  keep  awake." 

"As  if  any  of  as  could  close  our  eyes!"  said 
Jessie,  indignantly ;  but  for  all  that  every  one  of 
them  did  so  in  due  time, — even  Bob. 
N      t  25 


290  RED  BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER    XXVIIL 

A  PAWNEE  PICNIC  ENDED. 

BOB'S  deep-voiced  warning  to  Jerry  McCord  and 
Black  Wolf  that  they  were  too  near  him  had  drawn 
from  the  former  but  one  comment, — 

"  That  dog  must  be  got  rid  of,  and  so  must 
Chumley's." 

As  to  any  other  small  incidents  of  that  night's 
ride,  he  had  no  thoughts  to  spare  for  them.  He 
had  already  given  up  the  problem  of  how  the  set- 
tlers had  been  stirred  up  to  do  any  patrolling,  and 
was  dealing  with  another.  What  could  be  the  real 
meaning  of  the  unexpected  presence  of  Black  Wolf? 
Direct  questioning  was  likely  to  be  hopeless  work, 
but  skilfully  managed  roundabout  lying  on  both 
sides  enabled  Jerry  to  get  an  idea  that  his  own 
Pawnees  believed  him  to  be  a  man  worth  watching. 
The  story  of  the  disappearance  of  the  other  brave 
was  so  deep  a  puzzle  that  he  determined  to  look 
into  it  in  the  morning.  The  look  of  things  was 
anything  but  promising,  and  he  could  but  wish  that 
he  and  Jessie  were  already  eastward  bound  upon  a 
bridal  tour.  He  did  not  know  that  she  was  lying 
wide  awake,  thinking  of  him. 

He  and  Black  Wolf  made  their  way  to  their  old 


A   PAWNEE  PICNIC  ENDED.  291 

camp.  They  made  no  fire,  but  each  expressed  his 
lack  of  confidence  in  the  other,  and  perhaps  a 
memory  of  the  dead  sentry  at  the  foot  of  the  tree. 
The  Pawnee  lay  down  first  and  seemed  to  fall  asleep 
very  quickly,  and  then  Jerry  did  the  same  some 
paces  away  from  him.  Before  a  great  while  Black 
Wolf  silently  arose  and  glided  away  into  the  dark- 
ness. Some  minutes  passed  before  Jerry  himself 
stealthily  followed  so  instructive  an  example.  Each 
went  for  a  safer  spot  to  sleep  on,  saying  in  his  sus- 
picious heart, — 

"  I'd  rather  not  be  knifed  in  the  night." 

Morning  came  and  breakfast,  and  Jerry  returned 
to  the  subject  of  the  missing  brave.  His  duty  to 
all  the  band,  he  said,  required  that  he  should  in- 
vestigate that  matter  thoroughly.  Black  Wolf 
heard  in  silence,  but  it  grew  upon  him  that  his  own 
good  name  and  safety  were  involved,  and  at  last  he 
arose  and  beckoned  Jerry  to  follow  him,  saying, — 

"  Ugh !  Jerry  come.  Leave  horse.  Walk. 
Show  him  where  found  pony." 

Both  carried  their  rifles  as  if  they  had  an  idea 
of  finding  sudden  use  for  them,  and  it  was  not  a 
long  walk  to  the  trail  of  the  "  lost  brave." 

Two  men  on  foot  could  follow  it  better  and  more 
searchingly  than  could  one  on  horseback.  When 
they  came  to  the  spot  where  their  friend  had  so 
suddenly  fallen  from  his  pony,  the  precautions  taken 
by  Red  Beauty  to  hide  it  proved  insufficient.  There 


292  RED  BEAUTY. 

was  enough  of  disturbance  of  leaves  and  grass,  in 
spite  of  all  care,  to  induce  a  careful  study.  Then 
the  Black  Wolf  exclaimed  "  Ugh !"  and  pointed  at 
a  dark  spot  upon  a  stone,  and  Jerry  at  once  said 
"  Yes,  blood." 

Just  then  a  sound  like  the  bark  of  an  angry  dog 
came  up  from  the  deep  ravine  beside  them,  and 
they  peered  over  the  precipitous  edge.  It  was  not 
a  dog,  but  a  solitary  coyote,  pawing  viciously  at  a 
heap  of  stones  and  rubbish  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ravine.  A  hasty  shot  from  Jerry's  revolver  missed 
the  wolf,  but  sent  him  galloping  down  the  ravine 
and  out  of  sight.  It  was  not  many  minutes  before 
Jerry  and  his  Pawnee  were  busy  at  that  very  heap 
of  rubbish,  both  in  removing  it  and  afterwards  in 
putting  it  back  again. 

Each  was  acquitted  of  that  murder  by  what  the 
other  saw.  Jerry  knew  that  one  Pawnee  might 
Mil  another  in  a  quarrel,  but  it  was  impossible  that 
he  should  scalp  him.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Paw- 
nee knew  that  the  work  done  upon  his  friend's  head 
had  been  performed  by  some  red  man,  he  could  not 
guess  of  what  name  or  nation.  All  that  now  re- 
mained was  to  pilot  Jerry  to  the  spot  where  the 
pony  had  been  found  tied,  and  they  wondered  to- 
gether over  the  fact  that  no  trail  led  away  from  the 
foot  of  that  sapling. 

The  escape  of  the  Red  Beauty  had  been  admir- 
ably well  performed,  and  would  have  remained  a 


A  PAWNEE  PICNIC  ENDED.  293 

mystery  had  not  the  quick  eye  of  the  Pawnee  dis- 
covered a  tree-branch  bending  down  unnaturally 
low.  A  further  inspection  led  all  the  way  back  to 
some  twisted  twigs  upon  the  sapling,  and  the  Paw- 
nee exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  deep  respect, — 

"  Great  chief  do  all  that.  Heap  snake.  See  ? 
Big  brave.  Say  Pawnee  find  pony,  no  find  who 
kill.  Only  care  for  'calp." 

That  obvious  fact  made  the  whole  transaction 
respectable  in  Indian  eyes.  Some  old  feud  had 
been  relentlessly  followed  up  to  a  bloody  conclu- 
sion. Revenge  had  been  skilfully  taken,  and  the 
avenger  had  escaped  in  a  manner  which  rendered 
detection  or  pursuit  impossible. 

The  Pawnee  studied  the  matter  very  much  as  a 
connoisseur  in  painting  would  study  a  suddenly 
discovered  "old  master,"  or  as  an  acute  lawyer 
might  follow  the  perfect  handling  of  a  difficult 
case.  Jerry  himself  shuddered  as  the  idea  grew 
more  clear  to  him  that  the  brave  now  lying  under 
the  stones  in  the  ravine  had  never  known  what  hurt 
him.  It  may  have  strengthened  him  in  a  suddenly 
ripened  purpose  which  made  him  send  away  Black 
IVolf  at  once  with  orders  to  the  rest  of  the  gang 
to  come  and  take  revenge  for  both  of  their  slain 
companions.  It  was  as  easy  to  say  two  as  one,  and 
by  sending  the  messenger  he  was  left  unencum- 
bered to  carry  out  any  private  plan  in  his  own  way. 
The  Pawnee  was  quickly  upon  his  pony's  back, 
26* 


294  RED  BEAUTY. 

galloping  westward.  He  left  behind  him  a  bad 
white  man  in  an  uncommonly  disturbed  state  of 
mind. 

"The  devil's  against  me!"  he  exclaimed,  as  if 
with  a  burst  of  fierce  resentment  against  a  well- 
served  and  ungrateful  master.  "  Everything  went 
along  well  enough  until  I  set  out  to  reform  and  get 
married  and  settle  down." 

That  was  a  curious  description  to  give  the  pre- 
cise plan  he  now  had  on  hand,  and  it  sounded  as 
discordantly  when  he  quoted, — 

"'The  course  of  true  love  never  did  run 
smooth.' " 

He  hoped  that  his  Pawnees,  or  some  of  them, 
would  come,  but  he  was  not  half  sure  what  they 
would  do  with  him  or  he  with  them  after  their 
arrival. 

Just  such  a  doubt  had  been  as  busy  as  a  bee 
among  his  own  Pawnees  ever  since  they  saw  him 
ride  away.  It  was  true  that  they  had  two  spies 
sent  ahead  to  watch  their  dashing  leader,  but  who 
should  watch  those  two  spies  ?  It  worked  like  an 
oversupply  of  yeast  in  a  "tin"  of  flour.  The 
fermentation  was  rapid,  and  half  the  remaining 
braves  were  already  so  soured  and  jealous  that 
they  were  riding  hard  along  the  Trail,  bent  upon 
arriving  in  time  somewhere,  they  knew  not  exactly 
where,  to  be  sure  of  their  share  of  they  could  not 
pretend  to  say  what.  The  very  secluded  place  of 


A   PAWNEE  PICNIC  ENDED.  295 

refuge  they  left  behind  them  contained,  therefore, 
only  half  a  dozen  of  the  laziest  braves,  more  than 
twice  as  many  squaws,  and  a  varied  collection  of 
live-stock,  when  it  was  called  upon  to  receive  un- 
welcome visitors. 

The  dogs  of  that  camp  barked  readily,  and  the 
fact  that  they  all  went  off  into  fits  of  noise  together 
was  not  of  itself  cause  for  general  perturbation  in 
broad  daylight.  Nevertheless,  long  before  Black 
Wolf  halted  for  his  mid-day  rest,  many  long  miles 
away,  and  before  he  had  met  his  coming  kinsmen, 
an  unknown  disaster  fell  suddenly  upon  all  of  them. 
The  camp-dogs  knew  that  something  was  coming, 
and  said  so  vehemently,  and  one  brave  aroused 
himself  to  cuff  a  squaw  and  bid  her  go  and  see 
what  was  the  matter. 

He  should  have  bidden  her  go  at  once  and  re- 
move the  rocky  ledges  behind  that  camp,  which 
shut  it  in  and  prevented  a  swift  retreat  from  it. 
She  would  hardly  have  had  time  for  more  than  she 
actually  performed  before  the  trouble  foretold  by 
the  dogs  was  distinctly  visible.  The  yell  she 
uttered  was  a  sort  of  spark  to  touch  off  every 
other  yell  and  whoop  in  that  little  valley,  and  all 
these  were  replied  to  by  the  stirring  notes  of  a 
cavalry  bugle. 

It  was  all  too  late  for  anything  but  noise.  The 
last  Pawnee  to  leave  his  camp  that  morning  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  blue-coated  Philistines, 


296  RED  BEAUTY. 

and  now  the  captain  and  his  men  came  galloping 
in,  sabre  in  hand. 

The  bugle  and  the  blue  uniforms  were  quite 
enough,  so  far  as  winning  a  victory  was  concerned, 
for  not  a  Pawnee  vagabond  there  had  a  thought  of 
making  fight.  Their  only  anxiety  seemed  to  be  to 
convince  the  captain  of  their  peaceableness,  general 
good  purposes,  and  great  love  for  him  and  all  other 
WMte  Chiefs. 

Would  they  go  at  once  to  the  Reservation  ?  Of 
course  they  would,  and  take  all  the  squaws  and 
ponies  with  them,  and  tell  him  where  to  find  all 
the  other  Pawnees  and  that  very  bad  white  man, 
Jerry  McCord,  who  had  induced  them  to  leave  the 
Reservation  and  that  honored  friend  of  theirs,  the 
Agent. 

"  Sergeant,"  said  the  captain,  "  you  and  four  men, 
with  two  of  the  scouts  and  the  quartermaster,  will 
be  guard  enough  for  these  fellows." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  saluting;  but  a 
scout  not  in  uniform  had  a  looser  tongue. 

"  Guard,  captain  ?  They'll  go  right  in,  so's  not 
to  get  punished  and  so  they  can  claim  a  bigger 
sheer  of  these  yere  critters,  'fore  the  others  are 
fetched  in." 

"  Take  all  their  arms  away,  anyhow.  Move  them 
at  once,  sergeant.  I  must  push  right  on.  There's 
mischief  prepared  for  somebody,  or  Pm  mistaken." 

Every  squaw  was  ready  to  catch  horses  and  pack 


MORE  BLOOD   ON  THE  PAWNEE   TRAIL.     297 

up,  for  long  experience  had  taught  them  the  futility 
of  any  argument  with  an  army  officer  carrying  out 
his  instructions.  As  one  middle-aged  red  pony- 
packer  briefly  expressed  the  matter, — 

"  Blue-coat  heap  devil.  Speak  once ;  next  time, 
no  speak, — shoot." 

"No  shoot  squaw,"  remarked  her  next  friend. 
"  Want  Jerry.  Go  find  him  now.  Ugh !" 

Their  picnic  was  ended,  but  the  captain  still  had 
work  before  him,  and  within  an  hour  he  was  out 
of  that  valley. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

MORE  BLOOD  ON  THE  PAWNEE  TRAIL. 

THERE  was  something  the  matter  with  Perry 
Munro  the  morning  after  he  heard  his  first  Pawnee 
war-whoop.  He  was  always  up  and  out  early 
enough,  but  he  attended  to  his  stock  now  with  a 
strange  feeling  that  not  quite  so  much  of  him  had 
ever  before  arisen.  His  overflowing  energies  put 
him  on  horseback  before  breakfast,  and  the  rest  sat 
down  without  him.  His  very  absence  added  to  the 
vigor  with  which  they  discussed  all  they  knew  of 
the  events  of  the  previous  evening,  and  kept  them 


298  RED   BEAUTY. 

at  the  table  longer  than  usual.  They  had  not  risen 
from  it  when  his  rapidly  returning  horse-hoofs 
called  them  out  to  learn  where  he  had  been  and 
what  for. 

"  Chumley  says  we're  all  right,"  he  almost 
shouted.  "  Red  Beauty  has  come  in  and  gone  out 
again.  Not  a  trace  of  danger,  and  if  there  is  he 
will  let  us  know." 

That  was  somewhat  more  than  Red  Beauty  had 
actually  reported  to  Chumley,  and  the  old  Pota- 
watamy  had  not  returned  to  the  forest  without 
some  small  hope  of  getting  another  shot  at  some- 
body. He  had  made  sure  of  but  one  thing,  and 
that  was  that  if  any  considerable  number  of  Paw- 
nee perils  were  coming,  they  had  not  yet  arrived. 

The  only  evidence  that  Perry  had  seen  Erica 
Eagleson  was  a  message  from  her  to  Jessie  that  she 
was  coming  over  early  for  a  horseback-ride. 

For  all  that,  however,  Chumley  had  been  actually 
seen  to  chuckle  inwardly  that  morning.  Almost 
his  last  words  to  Perry  had  been, — 

"  By  and  by  you  and  I  had  better  make  a  scout 
of  our  own.  I'd  like  to  look  along  the  Trail  for  a 
mile  or  so  myself." 

"  I'll  be  ready,"  shouted  Perry,  as  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  away,  but  an  anxious  questioning 
look  grew  fast  upon  the  face  of  Erica. 

"  Mother,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  believe  they'd  find 
anything  if  they  went." 


MORE  BLOOD   ON  THE  PAWNEE   TRAIL.     299 

"  I  hope  very  much  not,"  was  Mrs.  Eagleson's 
emphatic  response ;  but  Chumley's — 

"I  shall  be  hardly  satisfied  till  I  do,"  was  an- 
swered by  Erica, — 

""Well,  Red  Beauty  can  find  out  more  than  you, 
and  he  won't  get  himself  hurt,  and  Perry  couldn't 
find  out  anything,  and  you'd  better  take  Eed  Beauty 
if  you  go." 

There  came  in  Chumley's  quiet  perception  of 
something,  and  Erica  walked  out  into  the  kitchen, 
leaving  her  mother  and  father  to  finish  that  con- 
versation. 

"  It  may  look  useless,"  he  said  to  them,  "  but  it 
isn't.  The  surest  way  to  send  Jerry's  Pawnees 
about  some  other  business  is  to  show  them  that  we 
are  watching  for  them." 

That  was  Perry's  explanation  of  it  to  his  own 
family  circle,  and  Uncle  John  remarked, — 

"  I  suppose  he  understands  their  character  better 
than  we  do." 

Jessie's  eyes  were  pugnaciously  bright  when  she 
added, — 

"I  wish  I  were  a  man  and  could  go  with  them." 

"  You  and  Erica  can  scout  around  on  the  prairie," 
said  Perry.  "  I  guess  there  won't  be  much  farm 
work  done  to-day.  !N"ot  till  we  know  more  about 
the  whooping  and  shooting." 

"  I  wish  I  had  heard  it,"  said  Jessie. 

"  It  was  evidently  of  a  hostile  character,"  said 


300  RE^  BEAUTY. 

Uncle  John,  and  the  rest  of  that  morning  at  the 
Munro  homestead  had  so  much  to  do  with  arms  and 
ammunition  that  they  were  all  astonished  when 
Chumley  rode  over  apparently  unarmed.  It  was 
very  nearly  provoking  that  he  carried  no  gun,  and 
to  find  him  so  cool  and  unconcerned,  but  Jessie 
found  herself  looking  at  him  almost  too  intently 
while  she  said  to  herself, — 

"  He  has  killed  three  Pawnees.  I  wonder  if  he 
ever  killed  anybody  else,  or  if  Mr.  Payne  ever  did." 
And  she  turned  her  head  away  with  a  strong  con- 
viction in  her  mind  that  Chumley  at  least  would 
not  hesitate  about  doing  whatever  he  might  deem 
needful  with  any  weapon  in  his  hand.  He  did  not 
dismount,  but  rode  right  on,  telling  Perry  he  should 
stop  for  him  on  his  return. 

"  He  won't  find  me  here,"  exclaimed  Jessie,  and 
that  was  where  the  mischief  of  that  day  began. 

She  saddled  her  horse  at  once  and  rode  over  to 
Chumley's  house  for  Erica,  only  to  meet  that  young 
lady  half-way,  in  every  inch  as  excited  a  condition 
of  mind  as  herself. 

"  Perry  and  Mr.  Chumley  were  at  the  Post,"  she 
said,  "  when  all  those  Pawnees  passed  them.  Let's 
go  and  look  at  it." 

"  Nobody  there  now,"  said  Erica. 

"  But  we  can  look  around,  and  we  can  visit  your 
grove." 

Off  they  went,  as  if  to  examine  some  old  battle- 


MORE  BLOOD   ON   THE  PAWNEE   TRAIL.    3Q1 

ground  and  refresh  historic  memories;  and  there 
was  no  reason  why  a  ride  in  that  direction  should 
not  he  entirely  safe.  A  ride  in  another  might  not 
he,  however,  and  all  of  Chumley's  icy  calmness 
vanished  at  once  on  his  return  from  what  may  have 
been  a  patrol  and  an  inspection  of  the  line  of  forest. 
He  was  told  of  Jessie's  departure  just  as  Perry 
mounted  his  horse. 

"  Gone  ?"  he  said,  with  sudden  energy.  "  "We 
must  get  to  my  house  before  they  start,  Perry. 
They  must  run  no  risks.  Quick,  now." 

Perry  had  not  thought  of  peril  to  his  sister  or 
Erica  up  to  that  moment,  and  he  galloped  after 
Chumley  with  a  fierce  something  burning  hotter 
and  hotter  around  his  heart,  such  as  he  had  never 
felt  before.  Not  a  glimpse  did  they  obtain  of  the 
objects  of  their  anxiety,  and  before  they  reached 
Chumley's  gate  he  turned  and  shouted  to  Perry, 
three  lengths  behind  him, — 

"  Not  there.     They  have  gone  already." 

A  glance  along  the  Trail  towards  the  prairie 
seemed  to  convince  him  that  they  had  not  gone  in 
that  direction.  They  would  be  yet  in  sight  if  they 
had,  he  thought,  and  he  added,  almost  savagely, — 

"  The  woods !  They  are  crazy !  Full  of  devils 
for  all  we  know." 

Erica's  father  was  in  the  door-way,  as  if  to  ask 
the  news,  and  to  him  the  next  words  went : 

"  Gustav,  my  rifle !     On  my  bed." 
26 


302  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  "Want  a  revolver  ?" 

"  No,  my  belt  is  on.     Quick." 

Gustav's  movements  were  swift  enough,  and  the 
question  in  his  eyes  as  he  handed  the  repeater  over 
the  fence  was  answered  with, — 

"  I'm  afraid  the  girls  have  gone  into  the  timber. 
We  must  catch  up  with  them  right  away.  No 
need  of  your  coming." 

Perhaps,  but  Gustav  went  at  once  for  a  gun  and 
to  saddle  a  horse  ready  for  action  if  need  should 
be. 

Perry  had  his  double-barrel  with  him,  and  if 
Jessie  and  Erica  had  really  been  in  the  timber,  they 
would  shortly  have  had  a  formidable  escort  home 
again. 

It  was  all  a  mistake,  and  that  which  had  already 
come  to  pass  in  the  woods  made  it  more  complete. 

Black  Wolf  had  not  ridden  far  upon  his  errand 
before  he  met  another  of  his  kind  to  tell  him  that 
the  rest  were  coming  without  waiting  to  be  sent 
for,  and  the  pair  turned  back  together  to  hunt  for 
Jerry  McCord.  They  were  reasonably  ready  to  do 
his  bidding,  but  his  own  mind  was  yet  more  than  a 
little  perplexed  as  to  what  that  bidding  should  be. 
The  problem  before  him  was  one  of  extreme  diffi- 
culty, for  it  involved  revenge  on  Chumley  taken  in 
such  a  manner  that  Pawnees  only  should  be  charged 
with  its  performance,  while  all  the  fire  in  his  selfish 
heart  demanded  the  winning  of  Jessie  Munro. 


MORE  BLOOD   ON  THE  PAWNEE   TRAIL.     3Q3 

More  and  more  did  she  seem  to  Mm  to  include  all 
the  hope  remaining  to  him,  and  it  never  so  much 
as  occurred  to  him  to  consider  whether  or  not  her 
own  happiness  would  be  served  by  her  becoming 
his  property.  Again  and  again  did  his  cunning 
assure  him,  nevertheless,  that  whatever  might 
happen  to  Chumley  or  anybody  else  must  in  no 
manner  be  traced  to  him,  and  he  was  keenly  on 
the  watch  for  some  such  set  of  circumstances  as 
actually  came. 

Before  they  came,  however,  the  state  of  his  mind 
grew  more  and  more  savagely  perplexed.  Another 
scout  along  the  edge  of  the  timber  gave  him  an 
assurance  that  it  was  no  place  for  him. 

"  I  can  do  absolutely  nothing  without  the  Paw- 
nees," he  exclaimed,  aloud.  "  Luck  is  against  me." 

Waiting  was  terrible  work  under  such  conditions, 
but  he  sought  a  cover  of  dense  underbrush,  near 
the  line  of  the  Trail,  to  fume  and  curse  and  grow 
more  bitter  in.  His  horse  was  in  a  yet  more  re- 
tired hiding-place,  but  not  too  far  away  to  be 
quickly  reached  if  need  should  be.  From  such  a 
post  of  observation  he  could  do  little  more  than 
make  sure  of  the  fact  that  there  was  little  or  no 
travelling  at  that  time  along  the  Pawnee  Trail. 

Two  passengers  came,  after  a  while,  from  the  west- 
ward, and  Jerry's  first  glimpse  of  them  brought  to 
his  lips  an  exclamation  of  profane  astonishment, 
and  to  that  he  added, — 


304  RED  BEAUTY. 

"Black  "Wolf  already?  One-eyed  Sam  with 
him  ?  That  means  that  they  are  all  on  the  road. 
Ha!" 

The  last  explosive  whisper  came  from  him  as  he 
glanced  from  the  pair  of  Pawnees  along  the  Trail 
to  the  eastward. 

"  What  if  they  Mil  Perry  also  ?"  he  said  to  him- 
self, as  he  almost  instantly  levelled  his  rifle  through 
the  thick  cover.  "  I  can't  help  it  if  they  do.  I'm 
afraid  he's  almost  as  much  in  my  way  as  Chumley 
is.  Hope  he'll  kill  one  of  them  first,  and  I  can 
kill  the  other,  or  both  of  them.  Just  the  yarn  I'd 
like  to  have  to  tell  Jessie  and  the  old  folks.  My 
luck  has  come." 

All  the  devil  in  him  was  at  work,  at  all  events, 
as  if  other  devils  were  stirring  him  up  to  the 
murderous  plot  that  had  flashed  upon  him.  His 
breath  came  hard  and  slowly  drawn,  but  his  hand 
was  steady  and  his  black  eyes  glared  like  coals  as 
he  waited  the  yet  nearer  approach  of  the  unsus- 
pecting horsemen. 

The  mistake  made  by  Perry  Munro  and  Chum- 
ley  as  to  the  direction  of  Jessie's  and  Erica's  morn- 
ing ride  sent  them  galloping  towards  the  timber 
the  moment  Gustav  handed  the  rifle  to  the  latter. 

"  They  can't  have  gone  far,  Perry,  and  we  shall 
catch  up  before  any  harm  can  come  to  them." 

"  Perhaps  they  didn't  come  this  way." 

"  We  must  find  out.     My  blood's  all  on  fire,  but 


MORE  BLOOD   ON  THE  PAWNEE   TRAIL.     3Q5 

I  could  shoot  straight.  Red  Beauty  is  in  here 
somewhere." 

They  rode  more  slowly  after  entering  the  forest, 
sending  swift  glances  right  and  left,  and  listening 
as  if  some  voice  might  come  to  them  from  among 
the  green  shadows. 

None  came,  and  they  had  already  pushed  on  as 
far  as  they  could  think  it  likely  the  girls  would 
venture,  when  they  saw  something  which  instantly 
stirred  anew  their  fading  anxieties. 

"Two  of  Jerry's  Pawnees,  Perry!  No  other 
Indians  around  here." 

"Will  they  fight?" 

"Not  off-hand.  "We  must  meet  them  friendly. 
Leave  it  to  me.  Be  ready  for  quick  work." 

At  that  instant  Perry  turned  on  his  saddle  with 
a  great  spasm  of  dread  sweeping  over  him.  His 
eyes  had  been  upon  Chumley's  face,  and  he  saw  it 
change  suddenly,  as  the  report  of  a  rifle  rang  out 
beyond  them.  The  hand  which  held  Chumley's 
repeater  cast  it  away  with  a  convulsive  motion,  but 
there  was  yet  a  grim  smile  upon  his  resolute  lips 
when  he  reeled  into  Perry's  outstretched  arms. 
The  latter's  foot  had  slipped  from  the  stirrup,  and 
the  weight  he  had  grasped  forced  him  completely 
off  his  horse.  He  managed  to  prevent  Chumley 
from  falling  to  the  ground,  and  bore  him  with  des- 
perate strength  into  the  bushes  on  the  right.  The 
Pawnee  war-whoop  was  ringing  in  his  ears  as  he 

u  26* 


306  RED  BEAUTY. 

did  so.  Black  Wolf  and  his  mate  had  fired  no 
shot,  but  instantly  caught  the  meaning  of  the  one 
fired,  and  they  saw  the  fall  of  the  man  upon  whom 
they  had  come  to  work  revenge.  The  fact  that 
they  saw  hoth  of  the  white  horsemen  go  down, 
seemingly,  led  them  to  dash  forward  with  a  rash 
haste  unbecoming  warriors  of  their  tribe  and  train- 
ing. 

Perry  Munro  had  dropped  his  gun  to  catch  his 
falling  friend,  but  he  was  now  leaning  across  the 
body  he  had  rescued,  and  in  his  hand  was  a  cocked 
revolver.  The  first  Pawnee  that  recklessly  pulled 
in  his  horse  to  see  what  had  become  of  those  two 
fallen  white  men  was  but  ten  feet  from  the  muzzle 
of  that  revolver  when  it  went  off.  He  uttered  but 
one  yell  as  he  pitched  forward  to  the  earth.  His 
companion  wheeled  with  Indian  swiftness  just  as 
the  crack  of  yet  another  rifle  came  to  Perry's  ears, 
and  he  saw  this  Pawnee  also  throw  up  his  hands 
wildly.  Three  bounds  of  the  pony  and  he  was 
riderless,  but  it  was  yet  a  puzzle  who  had  made 
him  so. 

"  Chumley's  done  for,"  growled  Jerry  McCord, 
savagely,  in  his  ambush,  "  and  Perry  will  swear  the 
Pawnees  did  it.  Sorry  they  did  not  kill  him.  He's 
quick  on  the  trigger,  but  who  fired  that  other  shot  ? 
It's  my  warning  to  lie  low  and  slip  away  while  my 
chance  is  good." 

No  brave  in  his  band  could  have  followed  that 


MORE  BLOOD   ON  THE  PAWNEE   TRAIL.     3Q7 

advice  more  snakily,  and  in  doing  so  he  made  it 
easier  for  another  performance  of  the  kind  to  be 
accomplished.  Perry  Munro  knew  that  the  two 
Pawnees  he  had  seen  were  accounted  for,  hut  he 
could  not  guess  how  many  more  were  near  whom 
he  had  not  seen.  It  might  he  sure  death  to  go  for 
his  gun  or  Chumley's  rifle.  He  thought  of  that; 
he  looked  at  Chumley's  white  face;  then  there 
came  burning  into  his  brain  a  hot  thought  of  his 
sister  and  of  Erica. 

"  I  must  find  them  or  die !"  he  shouted,  as  he 
bounded  out  upon  the  Trail  and  picked  up  the 
weapons. 

His  horse  and  Chumley's  had  run  but  a  little  dis- 
tance among  the  trees,  but  before  he  could  go  for 
either  he  heard  behind  him  a  short,  sharp,  yelping 
cry,  and  it  made  him  turn  again  towards  Chumley's 
body. 

"  Red  Beauty !"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Boy,  come  back !  Quick.  Devil  in  bushes  kill 
Chumley.  Shoot  boy  next." 

Quite  another  thought  than  one  of  personal  safety 
took  Perry  again  under  cover. 

"Red  Beauty,  where  is  my  sister?  Where  is 
Erica  ?" 

"Not  in  woods.  Old  Indian  watch  around  all 
day.  Squaw  no  come.  Boy  kill  one  Pawnee.  Red 
Beauty  kill  one.  Rifle  in  bushes  kill  Chumley. 
No  see  him.  Think  Jerry  McCord." 


308  RED  BEAUTY. 

He  and  Perry  were  kneeling  at  the  side  of  their 
wounded  friend,  and  he  was  hastily  making  a  sort 
of  surgical  examination  while  he  made  his  com- 
ments on  the  situation. 

"  You  are  sure  they  did  not  come  ?" 

"  Squaw  no  come  at  all.  Chumley  fool  and  come. 
Boy  fool  come,  but  shoot  heap  good." 

He  had  torn  open  the  shirt  and  undershirt  while 
speaking,  and  Perry's  face  whitened  and  his  heart 
sank.  It  was  well  to  be  assured  of  the  safety  of 
his  sister  and  of  Erica,  but  he  was  now  looking 
upon  his  first  bullet-wound.  According  to  his 
ideas  of  surgery,  a  man  shot  through  the  body 
must  be  mortally  hurt,  as  if  all  the  space  enclosed 
by  the  ribs  were  occupied  by  heart  and  lungs, 
upon  which  the  touch  of  flying  lead  is  certain 
death. 

"Ugh!"  said  Bed  Beauty.  "Boy  help  turn 
Chumley  over." 

They  did  so,  with  silent  care,  and  Perry  shook 
his  head  mournfully.  The  bullet  had  turned  to 
the  right  in  its  passage,  but  it  had  not  paused ;  it 
had  gone  clean  through. 

The  blood  was  flowing  freely,  and  they  strove  to 
stanch  it,  and  while  they  were  doing  so  a  sort  of 
shudder  went  over  the  body.  Perry  thought  he 
felt  it  in  every  corner  of  his  own  frame,  and  just 
then  the  eyes  of  the  man  he  thought  killed  came 
slowly  open.  He  was  looking  into  the  face  of  Red 


MORE  BLOOD   ON   THE  PAWNEE   TRAIL.     3Q9 

Beauty,  and  there  was  much  meaning  in  his  ques- 
tioning : 

"How?" 

"  Chumley  dead.  No  speak.  Red  Beauty  kill 
one  Pawnee.  Boy  kill  one.  Ugh !  No  talk." 

"  Can  you  speak,  Chumley  ?"  asked  Perry,  in 
spite  of  the  interdiction. 

"  I'd  best  not.  He  says  so.  He  knows.  Where 
am  I  hurt  ?" 

"  Through  the  body.     Badly." 

"  Are  any  bones  broken  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Perry,  in  some  surprise.  "  I  should 
say  not  any." 

"  I'd  better  be  taken  home,  then.  I  find  I  can 
breathe." 

He  was  in  perfect  possession  of  his  senses,  at  all 
events,  and  understood  what  was  further  said  of 
the  situation. 

"Boy  watch  by  Chumley,"  said  Red  Beauty. 
"  Old  Indian  go  for  help.  Boy  see  Pawnee,  no  ask 
question,  shoot  quick.  Shoot  Jerry." 

"  I'll  shoot  quick  enough,"  said  Perry.  "  Go 
right  away." 

The  Potawatamy  had  not  waited  for  any  assent 
or  dissent.  He  was  master  of  his  own  movements, 
and  these  were  marvellous.  Perry  was  not  sure  at 
what  precise  spot  he  lost  sight  of  him,  so  deftly 
did  he  disappear  through  the  underbrush  and 
among  the  trees. 


310  RED  BEAUTY. 

"The  girls?"  came  from  Chumley's  lips  in  an 
agonized  whisper. 

"  Red  Beauty  says  they  have  not  been  in  the 
woods." 

"  Thank  God !  They  are  safe.  I  don't  care  one 
straw  now.  If  this  kills  me  you  may  tell  them  so." 

He  shut  his  eyes  again,  and  Perry  crouched  by 
him,  gun  in  hand,  sending  swiftly  searching  glances 
in  all  directions  and  listening  for  the  slightest  sound. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

BKINGING  IN  THE  WOUNDED. 

JERRY  McCoRD  slipped  away  from  his  ambush 
with  an  inward  assurance  that  part,  at  least,  of  his 
present  purpose  had  been  remarkably  accomplished. 
He  had  seen  Chumley  fall,  and  he  was  satisfied  that 
the  death  of  the  two  Pawnees  sufficiently  covered 
his  own  share  in  the  murder.  "While  regretting 
that  he  might  still  have  a  brother-in-law  or  even 
worse  in  Perry  Munro,  he  felt  that  a  great  advance 
had  been  attained.  Among  the  difficulties  yet 
before  him  was  the  pretty  certain  arrival  of  the 
remainder  of  his  own  band,  but  a  man  of  genius, 
desperately  in  love,  could  turn  even  such  an  incon- 


BRINGING  IN  THE   WOUNDED.  31 1 

venient  circumstance  to  his  profit,  and  he  believed 
he  saw  a  way  opening.  It  was  obviously  well, 
however,  that  he  should  at  once  get  away  from  the 
scene  of  the  tragedy  and  nearer  any  possible  op- 
portunity for  adventurous  love-making.  Immedi- 
ately after  reaching  his  horse  he  led  him  by  a  long 
detour  to  a  covert  he  had  before  made  use  of,  in 
full  view  of  the  Munro  homestead.  Some  other 
important  things  took  place  while  he  was  so  doing, 
and  preparations  of  which  he  knew  nothing  were 
made  for  occurrences  yet  to  come. 

"When  Jessie  and  Erica  rode  out  along  the  Trail, 
full  as  were  their  minds  of  the  occurrences  of  the 
previous  evening,  they  had  but  faint  perceptions 
of  any  possible  peril  near  them  in  broad  daylight 
Pawnees  and  other  terrors  might  come  around 
after  dark,  but  the  sunlight  was  upon  the  prairie 
now,  and  it  had  never  looked  more  entirely  at 
peace. 

There  was  a  contrary  suggestion,  truly,  when  they 
reached  the  Post,  and  recalled  the  fact  that  the  five 
red  men  buried  there  had  set  their  fatal  trap  in  the 
daytime.  Even  that  bit  of  frontier  history,  how- 
ever, had  its  influence  upon  their  riding  on  at 
once  to  the  grove  where  the  Eagleson  camp  had 
been  so  suddenly  turned  into  a  battle-ground. 

"  Seems  to  me,"  said  Jessie,  as  they  reached  it, 
"  as  if  the  trees  were  closer  together  than  when  I 
saw  them  before,  and  cast  a  deeper  shadow." 


312  RED  BEAUTY. 

It  was  only  the  shadow  of  what  had  been  done 
there,  but  they  had  hardly  reached  the  spring 
before  Erica  looked  around  her  with  a  shiver  and 
exclaimed, — 

"  Let's  go,  Jessie.  I  don't  want  to  stay  here  one 
minute.  What  would  have  become  of  us  all  if  it 
had  not  been  for  Mr.  Chumley  ?" 

"  He  was  splendid,"  said  Jessie,  as  she  wheeled 
her  horse  after  Erica's ;  "  but  I'm  glad  I  was  not 
here  to  see  him  do  it." 

"  It  was  what  Red  Beauty  did  that  was  dreadful 
to  see,  and  the  whoops  and  yells  were  awful." 

"  "We'd  better  go  home.  They  may  have  learned 
something  new." 

All  the  news  they  already  had  was  responsible 
for  their  feverish  and  excited  states  of  mind,  but  it 
was  nothing  at  all  to  what  they  now  galloped  along 
the  Pawnee  Trail  to  receive. 

"Jessie,"  suddenly  exclaimed  Erica.  "Look! 
Red  Beauty !  "What  is  he  running  for  ?" 

Jessie's  only  reply  was  a  lash  to  her  horse  in 
imitation  of  Erica,  and  they  reached  Chumley's 
gate  at  the  same  moment  with  the  old  Potawatamy. 
Gustav,  too,  had  been  on  the  lookout,  and  was  there, 
ready  to  mount  and  ride,  but  the  first  words  of  Red 
Beauty  to  him  were, — 

"No  horse.  Fight  behind  tree,  maybe.  Send 
young  squaw  for  father.  All  come  fight  Pawnee." 

"  "Where  is  Perry  ?    Where  is  Mr.  Chumley  ?" 


BRINGING  IN  THE   WOUNDED.  313 

Two  excited  female  voices  asked  him  that  ques- 
tion as  one  utterance. 

"Jerry  shoot  Chumley.  Boy  shoot  Pawnee. 
Red  Beauty  kill  one." 

"Mr.  Chumley  killed?" 

That  was  Erica's  voice,  for  Jessie  in  vain  strug- 
gled to  utter  a  sound.  Gustav  seemed  to  he  grinding 
his  teeth,  and  his  wife  now  stood  close  behind  him, 
her  face  pale  enough  but  her  blue  eyes  flashing  fire. 

Red  Beauty  was  verbally  defective  as  a  story- 
teller, but  he  was  great  in  pantomime,  and  in  a 
minute  more  they  all  had  vivid  mental  pictures  of 
the  occurrence  in  the  woods.  The  old  Indian 
crouched  in  the  grass  to  show  them  how  Perry  was 
now  watching  by  the  wounded  man,  surrounded, 
it  might  be,  by  creeping  enemies.  He  also  very 
bluntly  explained  to  them  the  cause  of  the  disas- 
trous ride  into  the  forest,  and  the  girls  clearly  un- 
derstood that  Chumley  had  fallen  and  Perry  had 
risked  his  life  in  an  effort  to  rescue  them  from  sup- 
posed perils. 

"  "We  go  at  once,"  said  Gustav. 

"  No,"  said  Red  Beauty.  "  All  come.  Bring 
Chumley.  Young  squaw  RIDE  !" 

Jessie  felt  as  if  she  needed  that  peremptory  com- 
mand to  arouse  her  from  a  sort  of  amazement.  In 
an  instant  more  she  was  lashing  her  horse  across 
prairie  homeward,  but  it  was  all  in  vain  to  try  and 

make  it  seem  real. 

o  27 


314  RED  BEAUTY. 

There  had  been  quite  enough  of  excitement 
among  the  older  members  of  the  Munro  family  to 
make  sure  that  they  would  all  be  out  to  receive  a 
maiden  who  came  with  her  astonished  horse  on  a 
run  under  her  ceaseless  whip. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  shouted  Mrs.  Munro,  as 
the  animal  stopped  at  the  very  door-step.  His 
breathless  rider  leaned  forward  white  yet  wrathful, 
to  exclaim, — 

"  Jerry  McCord  and  his  Pawnees  have  murdered 
Mr.  Chumley.  Perry  and  Red  Beauty  killed  two 
of  them.  Perry  is  alone  in  the  woods  guarding 
Chumley's  body.  Father  ?  Uncle  John  ?  Gustav 
and  Red  Beauty  are  waiting  for  you  !" 

There  was  good  stuff  in  the  Munros.  Those  two 
men  had  never  been  in  a  fight  in  all  their  lives,  but 
neither  of  them  said  one  word  now  while  they 
went  for  their  weapons.  Knitted  brows,  clinched 
teeth,  rapid  movements,  while  Mrs.  Munro's  ques- 
tions drew  out  all  else  that  was  known  to  Jessie. 

"  My  son !"  she  said,  at  last.  "  I'm  glad  he  was 
there.  God  keep  him !  Husband " 

"  I'm  ready,  wife.     Good-by." 

"  Joe,"  said  Uncle  John,  "  it's  a  surgical  case, 
and  we  don't  know  its  character  yet.  Chumley's 
own  mattress  is  a  narrow  one.  We'd  best  get  that 
and  take  it  to  bring  him  home  on." 

There  was  cool  courage  under  that  professional 
thoughtfulness,  as  well  as  in  the  steady  persistence 


BRINGING  IN  THE   WOUNDED.  315 

with  which  the  idea  was  afterwards  carried  out,  but 
when  the  squad  of  four  was  fully  gathered  at  Chum- 
ley's  gate  and  moved  forward  towards  the  scene  of 
the  skirmish  in  the  woods,  it  was  plainly  under  the 
command  of  the  old  Potawatamy. 

"  Mother,"  said  Jessie,  as  soon  as  Mr.  Munro  and 
Uncle  John  were  gone,  "  what  are  we  to  do  ?" 

"  "We  can't  stay  here.  I'll  get  my  horse.  If 
they " 

"What,  mother?" 

"  My  daughter !  My  daughter  !  If  Perry  is 
killed  and  the  Pawnees  come,  all  the  rest  of  us  had 
hetter  he  together  in  one  house.  It's  dreadful !" 

Their  very  ignorance  of  the  facts  made  it  more 
so,  and  suspense  made  them  silent  as  they  hurriedly 
finished  such  preparations  as  were  needed. 

They  had  mounted  and  were  riding  away,  when 
Mrs.  Munro  turned  for  a  look  at  the  house,  ex- 
claiming,— 

"  Jessie,  it  may  all  be  burned  down  before  we  see 
it  again.  We  may  all  be  murdered.  There  is  no 
excuse  for  permitting  such  things.  They  ought  all 
to  be  hung !" 

"  Who,  mother  ?" 

"White  men  like  Jerry  McCord  and  red  men 
like  his  Pawnees." 

It  was  almost  a  pity  that  such  an  expression  could 
not  have  been  heard  by  a  man  who  was  at  that 
very  moment  staring  at  her  and  Jessie  through  a 


316  RED  BEAUTY. 

binocular  glass  and  pouring  forth  bad  language 
concerning  their  departure  from  home.  Jerry  had 
been  ready  to  shout  over  his  good  luck  when  he 
saw  the  two  men  hurry  away  and  knew  that  the 
women  were  left  alone.  Now,  however,  it  was  the 
house  that  was  left  alone,  and  his  changed  opinion 
of  his  luck  was  finding  expression. 

"  No  use,"  he  said,  as  they  rode  away.  "  I  must 
keep  still  awhile  and  see  what'll  turn  up.  One 
thing  is  dead  sure.  If  the  rest  of  the  band  come 
along  and  find  those  bodies  on  the  Trail,  their  blood 
'11  be  up.  I  could  save  Jessie,  but  I  couldn't  do 
much  more." 

He  knew  his  friends  and  associates,  and  his  judg- 
ment of  them  could  be  relied  upon.  Things  were 
looking  dark  for  the  little  settlement  at  Chumley's 
Post. 

During  all  that  time  Perry  Munro  kept  his  watch 
by  the  side  of  the  wounded  man  with  feverish  vigi- 
lance. It  seemed  an  age,  crowded  full  of  fearful 
imaginings  of  horrors  which  might  come,  or  even 
that  might  already  have  come.  Here  was  one. 
Could  Red  Beauty  be  sure  that  the  girls  had  not 
ridden  into  the  woods  ?  Perhaps  the  houses  were 
already  attacked  and  their  inmates  butchered. 

Terrible  as  were  the  possibilities,  the  thought  of 
them  did  not  interfere  with  the  use  of  his  senses, 
and  his  gun  at  last  turned  as  if  of  its  own  accord 
towards  a  slight  sound  near  him  among  the  bushes. 


BRINGING  IN  THE    WOUNDED. 

"  No  shoot ;  Red  Beauty " 

"  Come  along.     Where  are  the  rest?" 

The  Potawatamy  made  his  appearance  and  ex- 
plained himself  very  much  to  Perry's  satisfaction. 
He  had  halted  his  three  white  privates  behind  some 
fallen  trees,  while  he,  their  red  chief,  had  scouted  the 
woods  for  quite  a  distance  beyond  the  place  where 
Perry  was  waiting  for  him.  He  had  thus  made 
sure  that  there  was  no  ambushed  Pawnee  near 
enough  to  do  any  immediate  mischief.  He  now 
arose  and  gave  three  short,  shrill  yells,  a  signal 
agreed  upon  with  Mr.  Munro,  and  the  three  came 
forward  at  a  run  that  brought  them  up  hot  and 
panting.  Uncle  John  was  instantly  kneeling  by 
Chumley,  and  Perry  asked  him  anxiously, — 

"  How  long  can  he  live  ?    It  went  clean  through." 

"  Is  that  so  ?     Glad  of  that" 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Chumley,  faintly  but  firmly, 
and  Uncle  John  exclaimed, — 

"Hurrah!  He  can  breathe  and  he  can  speak! 
I  never  saw  but  one  shot-wound,  but  I've  read 
enough  about  them.  He  bled  well.  That's  a  good 
sign.  He  must  be  handled  carefully,  and  he  will 
be  laid  up  for  several  weeks." 

"Ugh!"  said  Red  Beauty.  "Glad  he  not  go 
dead.  Get  well,  kill  Jerry." 

The  mattress,  left  for  a  few  moments  behind  the 
logs  where  they  had  waited,  was  now  brought  along 
by  Gustav,  and  a  "  stretcher"  was  easily  improvised 

27* 


318  RED   BEAUTY. 

with  two  saplings  and  some  cross-pieces.  Chumley 
was  lifted  with  slow  care  and  laid  thereon,  and, 
while  his  four  bearers  took  their  places,  the  old 
Potawatamy  went  about  a  task  that  was  all  his  own. 

Perry's  horse  submitted  to  be  captured,  and  the 
ponies  of  the  slain  Pawnees  were  quietly  feeding 
at  a  little  distance  ready  to  be  caught,  but  Chum- 
ley's  own  favorite  threw  up  his  heels  at  the  old  In- 
dian's approach  in  a  way  that  suggested  prudence. 

"  He  come  anyhow,"  said  Red  Beauty.  "  Kick 
Pawnee.  Ugh !" 

He  was  right  about  the  independent  coming  home 
of  that  horse,  but  the  choice  he  might  make  as  to 
the  right  tribe  of  Indians  to  kick  was  not  quite 
certain.  He  avoided  the  reaching  hand  of  the  old 
Indian  only  to  take  his  place  behind  the  stretcher 
which  bore  his  master,  very  much  as  if  he  were  try- 
ing to  copy  some  military  funeral  he  had  witnessed. 
If  so,  the  "procession"  moved  on,  leaving  Red 
Beauty  to  his  own  devices,  and  these  included  other 
matters  besides  horses.  There  were  two  good  rifles 
and  sundry  other  weapons  to  be  gathered,  but  the 
spoils  of  war  included  very  little  money.  Instead 
thereof  were  a  couple  of  well-seasoned  brierwood 
pipes.  So  far  all  was  well,  but  Red  Beauty  was  an 
Indian  brave  to  the  backbone,  and  all  the  wild 
blood  in  his  veins  forbade  him  leaving  the  scalps 
of  his  enemies  behind  him.  That  he  must  hide 
them,  and  the  taking  of  them,  from  his  white 


DEADLY   PERIL.  319 

friends  did  not  prevent  him  from  adding  them  to 
the  net  results  of  his  lingering  behind. 

The  mattress  with  Chumley  on  it  was  a  light 
weight  for  four  strong  men,  and  the  bearers  strode 
freely  along,  feeling  reasonably  secure  from  any 
attack  in  the  rear,  for  they  had  a  vast  deal  of  confi- 
dence in  their  Potawatamy  "  rear-guard." 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

DEADLY   PEEIL. 

FOUR  women  at  Chumley's  house  waited  for  news 
from  the  woods  with  terribly  sufficient  reasons  for 
anxiety,  but  not  one  of  them  fully  comprehended 
the  feelings  of  either  of  the  others.  Each  had  a 
widely  varying  stake  in  whatever  might  then  be 
going  on  among  the  trees,  and  neither  of  them  was 
willing  to  put  her  own  into  any  form  of  verbal  ex- 
pression. It  was  Erica  who  at  last  exclaimed, — 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Munro !  Oh,  Jessie !  Oh,  mother, 
— mother, — what  if  not  any  of  them  should  come 
back  alive !" 

No  words  replied  to  her,  but  Mrs.  Eagleson  at 
once  arose  and  walked  out  into  the  kitchen.  She 
came  back  carrying  two  axes  and  a  carving-knife, 
and  remarked,  in  a  hard,  hoarse  tone, — 


320  RED 

"  Gustav  loaded  all  the  guns.  Your  dog  is  here. 
So  are  Mr.  Chumley's.  I  untied  them  now." 

Jessie  and  her  mother  had  each  brought  a 
revolver  with  her,  and  when  all  the  weapons  were 
spread  out  upon  the  dinner-table  they  made  a  for- 
midable-looking array. 

"  We  can  bar  the  doors  and  windows,"  said  Erica. 
"  They  are  strong." 

"  Indians  use  fire,"  said  Mrs.  Munro. 

"I'll  die  before  they  shall  get  in,"  exclaimed 
Jessie.  "I'd  rather  be  burned  up  a  thousand 
times." 

The  several  comments  upon  that  remark  fore- 
boded a  desperate  defence  of  that  log  house  against 
any  assailants  likely  to  come,  but,  in  the  absence 
of  immediate  signs  of  danger,  they  all  went  out 
and  stood  in  front  of  the  house,  staring  at  the 
forest  and  wondering  how  long  was  to  be  their 
hour  of  suspense. 

It  was  yet  to  have  its  moment  of  especial  excite- 
ment, for  Red  Beauty  and  his  horses  travelled  much 
faster  than  did  Chumley's  "  procession."  He  caught 
up  with  it  and  passed  it,  saying  as  he  did  so, — 

"  Ugh !  Bring  Chumley  home.  Old  Indian  go 
tell  squaw." 

"That's  right,"  said  Mr.  Munro.  "Say  the 
danger  is  all  over." 

That  would  hardly  have  been  true,  and  it  was 
not  at  all  what  he  did  say.  He  hastened  the  move- 


DEADLY  PERIL.  321 

ments  of  his  quadrupeds  by  mounting  one  of  the 
captured  ponies,  and  the  moment  he  was  out  of  the 
woods  he  urged  them  all  to  a  gallop.  At  that  pace 
he  came  dashing  along  the  Trail  towards  the  gate 
Mrs.  Eagleson  swung  open  for  him.  He  had  not 
heard  Jessie's  terrified  exclamation, — 

"  Erica !  He  is  running !  Where  can  all  the 
rest  be  ?  Are  they  killed  ?" 

"This  is  agony!"  groaned  her  mother,  and  it 
was  Mrs.  Eagleson  who  now  asked, — 

"  Where  are  they  ?" 

"All  'calp,"  said  Red  Beauty.  "Pawnee  come 
for  white  squaw  now." 

"  Speak  the  truth,"  almost  screamed  Mrs.  Munro, 
for  even  the  hideous  solemnity  of  his  face  had  in  it 
something  to  suggest  such  a  demand. 

"  Pawnee  no  'calp  'em.  'Teal  'em.  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord  come  right  away.  Pawnee  come  'calp  poor 
old  Potawatamy." 

"  Jessie,"  said  Erica,  "  what  does  he  mean  ?" 

"Yellow-hair  see  boy  horse?  Boy  lose  'calp. 
Yellow-hair  no  like  him,  'cause  got  no  'calp. 
Come  show  head  pretty  soon.  Say  '  how.' ' 

"  That's  it,  is  it,"  said  Mrs.  Munro,  with  a  great 
sigh  of  relief,  for  the  last  attempt  at  savage  humor 
was  accompanied  by  such  a  grin  as  no  other  face 
could  make.  "  Perry  is  safe,  Erica.  Mr.  Chumley 
must  be  the  only  person  hurt.  Poor  fellow ! " 

"Chumley  dead,"   said  Bed  Beauty.     "Bring 


322  RED  BEAUTY. 

him  home, — bury  him.  Black-hair  squaw  say, 
*  Poor  fellow,  glad  he  got  kill;  wait  for  Jerry.' ' 

Not  much  more  could  be  gotten  out  of  such  a 
news  reporter,  and  before  long  they  saw  the  bearers 
and  their  load  come  out  from  among  the  trees. 

"All  four  of  them!"  shouted  Erica.  "Oh, 
Jessie,  they're  all  there  !" 

So  they  were,  but  after  they  reached  the  gate 
there  was  a  difficulty.  It  seemed  impossible  to  let 
those  men  pass  through  without  kissing  them  for 
joy  that  they  had  returned,  and  it  seemed  impossi- 
ble to  keep  Chumley's  dogs  from  jumping  upon 
the  stretcher  to  see  what  was  the  matter  with  their 
master.  A  sort  of  compromise  was  attained  through 
the  necessity  that  all  the  women  were  under  to  re- 
strain the  dogs,  and  Chumley  was  carried  into  the 
house  without  being  dropped  or  trodden  under 
friendly  feet. 

Once  he  was  placed  in  his  own  room,  Uncle  John 
turned  out  everybody  but  Mr.  Munro,  and  Perry 
was  in  the  hands  of  his  mother  and  sister. 

Mrs.  Eagleson  had  already  led  away  Gustav  to 
hear  his  account  of  what  he  had  seen  and  heard, 
und  hardly  had  they  entered  the  kitchen  before  a 
self-satisfied  voice  from  its  outer  door  asserted, — 

"Very  good  old  Indian.  Kill  Pawnee.  Eat  a 
heap.  Heap  fine  squaw.  Handsome." 

"  Come  in !  Come  in !"  said  Mrs.  Eagleson, 
eagerly.  "Eat  all  you  want.  Tell  me  about  it, 


DEADLY  PERIL.  323 

G-ustav,  but  he's  earned  his  dinner.  Must  be 
hungry.  Not  a  mouthful  all  day." 

He  was  likely  to  get  all  he  needed  now,  to  judge 
from  the  manner  in  which  things  came  upon  the 
kitchen  table. 

Erica  listened  to  her  father  with  an  inner  assur- 
ance that  Jessie  was  hearing  a  more  interesting 
story  from  Perry,  but  that  nobody  had  a  right  to 
break  in  upon  it  so  long  as  his  mother  was  making 
such  a  fuss  over  him. 

A  captious  historian  of  that  fight  might  have 
observed  that  Chumley's  share  in  it  had  been  to 
get  hit  and  fall  from  his  horse,  but  Perry's  praise 
of  him  went  back  to  the  furious  interest  he  had 
taken  in  the  safety  of  the  girls,  and  he  repeated 
what  the  wounded  man  had  said  in  his  first  dim 
moments  of  half-returned  consciousness.  It  threw 
a  sort  of  heroic  light  upon  his  entire  conduct,  but 
it  failed  to  detract  one  iota  from  the  estimate 
formed  by  Mrs.  Munro  of  the  courage  and  prowess 
of  her  only  son.  She  felt  almost  indifferent  to  the 
possible  nearness  of  more  Pawnees.  If  they  should 
come  to  the  house  to  be  disposed  of,  here  was  Perry. 
He  too,  however,  was  unromantic,  like  Red  Beauty, 
and  a  suggestion  that  he  was  hungry  came  at  the 
end  of  his  narrative  like  a  punctuation  mark. 

"  Of  course  you  are.  Jessie,  wait  here  to  know 
if  they  want  anything  for  Mr.  Chumley.  Come, 
Perry." 


324  RED  BEAUTY. 

The  last  word  was  spoken  in  the  very  door-way 
leading  to  the  kitchen,  and  was  followed  by, — 

"  Mrs.  Eagleson,  Perry  is  hungry !" 

"  Oh,  dear  me  !  Bring  him  in.  I  cook  for  him 
all  day.  Coffee  ready  now." 

Perry  was  close  behind  his  mother,  and  Jessie 
was  almost  unceremoniously  left  alone.  She  felt 
no  regret  whatever,  for  some  reason,  and  her  eyes 
fastened  themselves  upon  the  latch  of  the  closed 
door  of  Chumley's  room.  Beyond  that  door  lay  a 
man  whose  present  suffering  came  to  him  largely 
on  her  account.  She  added,  "and  Erica's,"  but 
instantly  there  was  a  light  in  her  eyes,  for  her 
thought  went  further  and  grew  higher  and  better, 
and  she  said  to  herself, — 

"  Any  woman !  He  and  Perry  would  face  Paw- 
nees to  defend  any  woman  in  the  wide  world !" 

That  was  it,  and  her  ideal  of  Chumley  escaped 
being  hurt  by  any  taint  of  selfish  considerations. 
He  and  her  brother  had  behaved  like  men,  and 
when  Chumley  was  hurt  Perry  had  remained  by 
him  regardless  of  consequences.  She  felt  a  glow 
of  enthusiasm  all  over  her,  and  when  (Jncle  John 
put  his  head  out  of  the  door  she  sprang  to  her  feet 
full  of  eagerness  to  do  something. 

"  What  is  it,  Uncle  John  ?" 

He  came  all  the  way  out  and  shut  the  door  be- 
hind him. 

"  Jessie,"  said  he,  "  I  think  Mr.  Chumley  may 


DEADLY  PERIL.  325 

recover.  There  will  be  fever,  of  course,  and  I 
cannot  discern  the  precise  internal  character  of  the 
wound.  The  fact  that  the  ball  is  not  in  him  re- 
lieves me  very  much,  but  there  are  some  things  in 
my  leather  case " 

"  Where  is  it,  Uncle  John  ?" 

"  On  the  shelf,  at  the  house." 

"I'll  go  for  it.  There  is  no  danger  whatever. 
I'll  come  right  back." 

She  was  off  before  there  was  any  time  to  consult 
with  another  soul,  and  Uncle  John  was  too  utterly 
absorbed  in  his  first  great  surgical  case  to  feel  any- 
thing but  satisfaction  over  the  fact  that  he  was  to 
have  his  instruments  and  things  as  quickly  as 
might  be.  Jessie  sprang  upon  her  horse  and 
dashed  away,  and  Perry  Munro  had  nearly  finished 
his  hasty  meal  before  his  father,  in  Chumley's  room, 
inquired  of  Uncle  John, — 

"  Did  Perry  go  for  your  instruments  ?" 

"I  don't  know  whether  Jessie  went  herself  or 
whether " 

"Jessie?  You  don't  mean  it!  There  is  no 
danger,  but  then  !  I  must  go  and  see  about  that." 

He  did,  and  in  half  a  minute  more  Perry  Munro 
was  mounted,  gun  in  hand,  riding  away  to  escort 
his  sister  safely  back,  scolding  her  rashness  as  he 
went,  but  still  without  any  strong  persuasion  that 
she  had  run  any  risk  in  going.  He  would  have 
felt  differently  if  he  could  have  been  advised  of 

28 


326  RED   BEAUTY. 

what  was  then  going  forward  under  cover  of  the 
forest  and  along  the  Pawnee  Trail. 

Black  Wolf  had  met  one  jealous  Pawnee  and 
brought  him  to  where  he  could  be  readily  wiped 
out,  but  the  fact  of  that  brave  being  ahead  of  them 
had  been  a  sort  of  mild  spur  to  the  zeal  of  a  round 
dozen  more,  and  they  had  not  been  a  long  march 
behind  him  when  he  ceased  pony-riding  forever. 
Taken  all  as  one,  they  had  also  operated  as  a  spur 
to  the  keen  sense  of  duty  felt  by  the  captain  of 
cavalry.  As  he  expressed  it  to  the  corporal  now 
riding  near  him, — 

"  Corporal,  I  can't  guess  what  mischief  Jerry 
and  his  coyotes  are  up  to,  but  we  must  try  and 
catch  up  before  they  have  a  chance  to  finish  it." 

"  One  of  the  squaws  let  out  that  they  had  gone 
for  scalps." 

"  More  likely  horses,  but  they  wouldn't  mind  a 
little  murder.  It's  right  in  their  line." 

If  indeed  the  squaw  had  confessed  a  truth,  about 
the  first  discovery  made  by  her  kindred  was  that 
scalps  had  been  lost  and  not  won.  Before  Perry 
Munro  mounted  his  horse  there  had  been  a  fiercely 
excited  group  gathered  around  the  two  corpses  yet 
lying  by  the  Pawnee  Trail.  It  was  plain  to  them 
all  that  there  had  been  a  sharp  collision  with  some- 
body, and  that  the  hand  of  at  least  one  red  man 
had  been  at  work.  If  a  collection  of  rugged  sylla- 
bles uttered  by  several  of  them  could  have  been 


DEADLY  PERIL.  327 

translated,  it  may  have  been  the  title  assigned  by 
them  to  Red  Beauty.  Equally  clear  was  their 
understanding  of  hoof-  and  boot-tracks  and  of  the 
fact  that  a  dead  or  wounded  pale-face  had  been 
carried  away.  They  read  it  that  their  comrades 
had  been  outnumbered.  Had  they  been  decoyed 
into  some  trap  ?  If  so,  had  it  been  done  by  Jerry 
McCord  ? 

Suspicion  was  already  kindled,  and  this  mystery 
blew  its  fire  briskly.  That  was  no  time  or  place 
for  lingering,  and  the  wrathful  gang  was  quickly 
pressing  forward  along  the  Trail,  determined  to 
discover  a  solution.  They  had  no  plan  except  that 
free  mention  was  made  of  Chumley  as  well  as  of 
Jerry  and  of  the  old  Potawatamy.  It  was  a  blind 
rush  for  revenge,  and  was  as  likely  to  be  wisely 
conducted  as  the  "  Amok"  run  of  a  frantic  Malay. 
As  they  rode  out  from  the  forest  they  descried  one 
horseman  cantering  across  the  prairie,  and  in  an 
instant  four  yelling  Pawnees  were  after  Perry 
Munro. 

He  had  seen,  and  the  first  thought  in  his  mind 
was  a  question  that  did  not  relate  to  his  own  safety. 

"  Can  I  warn  them  all  at  Chumley's  ?  Ought  I 
to  be  there  ?  No !  They'll  have  warning  enough. 
Can  I  reach  our  house  before  they  catch  up  ?  If  I 
lose  this  race  what  will  become  of  Jessie !" 

His  brain  seemed  a  mass  of  fire,  and  the  good 
steed  plunging  along  under  him  appeared  hardly 


328  RED  BEAUTY. 

to  move,  but  lie  might  have  felt  a  madder  heat  if 
he  could  have  seen  further  into  the  peril  threaten- 
ing his  sister. 

Jessie  rode  fast  from  the  start,  and  for  all  that 
she  could  see  there  was  not  a  human  being  on  that 
prairie  to  note  her  going  or  her  coming.  She 
could  not  look  through  the  log  walls  of  her  own 
home  and  know  that  on  the  opposite  side  stood  a 
saddled  horse  at  the  door-step,  and  by  him  a  hand- 
some, dark-eyed  man,  in  a  neat  suit  of  blue. 

"  If  the  wrong  people  should  come,"  Jerry  had 
said  to  himself,  "  all  I've  got  to  do  is  to  ride  away. 
It  won't  be  Chumley,  and  I  don't  mind  old  Munro 
or  his  brother." 

That  was  on  his  arrival,  and  after  he  had  assured 
himself  that  the  house  was  unoccupied.  Just  now 
he  had  withdrawn  from  a  peering  glance  around 
the  corner  of  the  house  and  exclaimed  aloud, — 

"Jessie  coming?  All  alone?  My  luck  hasn't 
left  me  yet.  So  much  for  pushing  right  ahead. 
It  looks  almost  as  if  I  had  sent  for  her." 

So  it  did,  and  the  unsuspecting  girl  rode  up  to 
the  door  nearest  her  and  dismounted.  She  opened 
and  entered,  and  there  was  as  yet  no  sign  or  sound 
to  occasion  her  the  slightest  uneasiness.  She  was 
even  permitted  to  seek  and  find  Uncle  John's  case 
of  instruments,  and  she  held  it  in  her  hand  when 
the  north  door  of  the  house  opened  suddenly  and 
a  man  stood  before  her  exclaiming, — 


DEADLY  PERIL.  329 

"  Jessie,  my  love,  I  have  come  to  save  you.  The 
Pawnees !" 

"  Mr.  Payne  ?  Jerry  McCord  !  You  and  your 
Pawnees!  Oh,  God!" 

The  syllables  heaped  up  with  fear  and  agony  as 
they  followed  each  other,  but  they  made  no  im- 
pression upon  the  unabashed  villain  before  her. 
He  did  not  at  once  come  near  her,  for  he  had  some 
prudence  of  cunning,  and  to  his  mind  her  instant 
horror  must  be  of  the  savages.  His  vanity  forbade 
an  idea  that  she  could  shrink  from  him  with  all 
that  loathing.  His  tongue  worked  on  eloquently, 
for  he  was  in  no  immediate  haste.  He  knew  she 
could  not  get  away.  Her  very  home  had  served  as 
a  trap  to  catch  her  in,  and  he  made  the  best  of  his 
opportunity  to  tell  her  all  the  story  of  his  passion 
and  of  his  plan  for  her  escape.  According  to  him, 
the  Pawnees  already  surrounded  Chumley's  house. 
Not  a  soul  could  leave  it  without  death,  if  indeed 
one  could  by  any  possibility  ever  escape.  The 
savages  would  be  here  also  before  long,  and  he  who 
loved  her  had  risked  his  life  to  come  to  her  rescue. 
She  must  flee  with  him,  and  he  by  no  means  omitted 
setting  forth  in  romantic  outline  his  well-prepared 
arrangements  for  a  wedding,  an  Eastern  tour,  and 
a  return  to  a  happy  future  to  be  shared  by  her  with 
him.  He  was  wasting  precious  time,  for  he  had 
not  the  slightest  idea  how  much  truth  he  was  tell- 
ing. He  knew  not  how  nearly  he  had  hit  the  facts 

28* 


330  RED   BEAUTY. 

in  his  fiction  concerning  the  nearness  of  his  own 
gang.  Still  less  did  he  dream  what  thoughts  con- 
cerning himself  were  in  them.  Jessie  heard  in 
silence,  because  as  long  as  he  should  talk  she  could 
think,  but  the  moment  he  paused  and  took  one 
step  nearer,  her  voice  sounded  even  in  her  own 
ears  like  a  shriek  of  despair. 

"  Back !  Back !  I  know  you !  You  are  worse 
than  a  Pawnee !  You  murdered  Mr.  Chumley !" 

Even  Jerry  McCord  could  shrink  before  such  an 
appalling  response  as  that.  She  knew  ?  How  did 
she  know  ?  Could  he  have  been  seen  to  fire  that 
felon  shot  ? 

He  was  repelled  for  a  moment,  but  all  the  lost 
soul  in  him  was  being  stirred  to  its  depths.  The 
fair  girl's  face  of  scorn  looked  into  his  as  if  from 
some  plane  of  life  ineffably  above  him.  There  was 
justice  and  judgment  in  it,  and  so  there  was  power, 
but  it  was  power  against  which  the  evil  of  his 
nature  rebelled  with  determined  bitterness. 

"  Jessie  ?    Jessie  Munro  ?" 

She  sprang  towards  the  door,  exclaiming, — 

"  I'd  rather  be  killed  by  a  Pawnee, — I  hope  thev 
are  coming." 

"  You  shall  not  escape  me." 

He  had  seized  her  by  her  arm,  but  at  that 
moment — shrill,  piercing,  thrilling — came  down 
upon  the  wind  a  sound  which  he  knew  better  than 
she  did,  for  the  brave  nearest  behind  Perry  was 


"  You  shall  not  escape  me." 


Page  330 


DEADLY  PERIL.  331 

whooping  his  wrath  over  the  fact  that  the  latter 
was  gaining.  Jerry  could  but  pause  and  listen  to 
such  a  surprise. 

"Fact!"  he  said,  and  in  that  breath  of  hesitation 
she  wrenched  her  arm  from  him  and  threw  open 
the  door. 

"Perry!  My  brother!"  she  screamed.  "And 
they  are  after  him !" 

It  was  too  much.  For  one  brief  moment  her 
brain  reeled  and  she  staggered  against  the  wall, 
while  her  enemy  stepped  past  her  for  a  glance  at 
the  situation.  It  needed  but  a  look  to  bring  from 
him  a  bitter  blasphemy,  and  he  turned  towards  the 
door  beyond  which  he  had  left  his  horse. 

"  Jessie,"  he  said,  as  much  a  liar  and  a  rascal  as 
ever,  "  come !  It  is  your  last  chance  for  either 
yourself  or  your  brother.  Say  'yes*  and  I  can 
save  you  both.  Quick,  or  his  blood  is  on  your 
head  and  your  own  too." 

"  Never !  Go  !  Murderer !"  She  recovered  her 
thought  and  will  as  she  hurled  the  words  at  him 
and  sprang  to  the  door,  shouting, — 

"  Perry,  I  am  here !     Save  me !" 

That  was  what  he  had  come  for,  but  the  outlaw 
laughed  a  laugh  of  triumph  as  he  answered  her  cry 
with, — 

"  I  shall  have  both  of  you  in  my  power  in  three 
minutes." 

He  did  not  know  what  good  generalship  a  woman 


332  RED  BEAUTY. 

will  sometimes  exhibit  without  thinking.  What  he 
called  his  prudence,  or  it  may  have  been  his  "luck," 
led  him  to  make  two  steps  beyond  the  threshold 
for  his  rifle,  which  had  leaned  against  the  side  of 
the  house  to  rest  while  he  did  his  love-making.  Like 
a  flash  went  a  female  form  across  the  room,  and 
the  door  was  slammed  behind  him.  The  wooden 
bar  standing  by  it  for  such  uses  seemed  to  jump 
into  its  iron  loops,  and  while  the  angry  ruffian  so 
shut  out  strained  and  swore  against  the  sudden 
barrier  between  him  and  his  prize,  Perry  Munro 
sprang  from  his  horse  on  the  other  side  of  the 
house. 

"  Quick!     Perry!     Come  in.     I'm  not  hurt." 

"  We  can  hold  the  house." 

That  door  also  banged  and  its  bar  went  up.  The 
side-door  leading  into  the  "  patent  house"  kitchen 
addition  was  quickly  closed  and  braced  with  the 
table. 

"  The  windows, — I  can  shoot  him  from  one  of 
them.  There  they  come.  What's  that?  Listen!" 

The  sound  of  arriving  hoofs  had  been  followed 
by  yells  and  whooping  and  angry  voices,  among 
which  for  one  moment  sounded  that  of  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord,  and  then  there  were  shots  and  curses  and 
more  whooping,  and  Jessie  and  her  brother  looked 
from  the  window  upon  a  finished  work  of  strange 
and  bloody  retribution. 

Jerry  McCord  seemed  to  his  Pawnees  to  have 


DEADLY  PERIL.  333 

come  out  of  the  very  house  their  intended  prey 
had  escaped  into.  He  came  to  meet  them,  calling 
upon  them  to  help  him  capture  it,  only  to  be  ac- 
cused of  being  in  league  with  their  enemies  for 
their  destruction.  The  very  frenzy  of  disappointed 
passion  he  was  in  led  him  to  use  words  and  gesticu- 
lations, understood  only  in  small  part,  that  changed 
the  first  hot  altercation  into  an  instantaneous  col- 
lision. It  was  his  "  luck"  that  made  him  threaten 
one  brave  with  his  rifle,  but  he  fired  no  shot.  Not 
all  that  they  fired  hit  him,  but  what  was  seen  by 
Perry  Munro  and  his  sister  from  the  window  was 
the  form  of  a  lost  white  man  rolling  in  the  grass 
while  a  Pawnee  sprang  after  him  with  a  bowie- 
knife  drawn.  Blow  followed  blow  with  sickening 
persistency,  as  Jessie  pulled  her  brother  back  from 
that  horror,  pleading, — 

"  Don't  shoot,  Perry.  Don't  fire  at  them.  Wait 
and  see  what  they  will  do.  They  may  go  away 
now." 

Again  she  was  a  good  general.  The  very  fact  of 
having  killed  their  own  leader  cooled  that  squad  of 
horse-thieves  a  little,  and  they  had  no  idea  whether 
the  house  held  one  white  man  or  ten.  They  were 
content  to  ride  away  to  a  spot  out  of  point-blank 
range  and  discuss  the  situation. 

"  Perry,"  said  Jessie,  "  what  shall  we  do  ?  "Were 
there  any  at  the  other  house  ?" 

"  Do  ?    Are  you  not  hurt  at  all  ?" 


334  RED  BEAUTY. 

It  was  almost  the  first  word  he  had  spoken,  and 
it  came  from  white  lips,  as  if  it  hurt  him. 

"  Not  a  scratch, — but  mother  ?" 

"  I  saw  some  of  the  devils  ride  in  that  direction. 
Red  Beauty  is  in  the  house, — all  the  dogs, — father, 
—Uncle  John, — they  can  defend  themselves." 

"  So  can  we.  Do  you  know,  I  was  so  excited  I 
forgot  all  about  my  revolver.  I  could  have  shot 
him." 

She  said  it  as  simply  as  if  it  had  been  a  mere 
trifling  operation,  as  she  drew  out  the  small,  pretty, 
but  deadly  weapon  that  belonged  to  her. 

"  Keep  it  ready,  Jessie.  All  we've  got  to  do  is 
to  wait.  "We'll  work  around  and  get  the  whole 
house  ready.  We  can  die  fighting,  anyhow." 


A   DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEY'S.  335 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

v     A  DAKK  HOTJE  AT  CHUMLET'S. 

THE  ears  of  the  old  Potawatamy  and  of  Bob 
Munro  had  not  heen  made  otherwise  alike,  but 
they  seemed  to  catch  a  sound  of  coming  danger  at 
the  same  instant.  No  others  of  all  in  or  about 
Chumley's  house  heard  the  first  whoop  that  fol- 
lowed Perry,  but  Bob  sprang  towards  the  gate  with 
a  loud  bark,  and  Red  Beauty  turned  towards  Mrs. 
Eagleson,  remarking,  quietly, — 

"Pawnee  coming.  Call  in  all  dog.  Shut  up 
house." 

"Are  they  coming?"  she  said,  and  Erica  rushed 
towards  Chumley's  room  to  call  out  the  men  who 
were  there,  only  to  be  stopped  by  the  old  Indian. 
He  said  to  her, — 

"  Squaw  no  tell  Chumley.  Wait.  House  heap 
fort.  Beat  Pawnee." 

He  was  in  command,  as  he  had  been  of  the  squad 
in  the  forest,  and  when  the  foremost  Pawnees  gal- 
loped nearer,  the  only  living  being  they  saw  was 
Mrs.  Munro  at  the  gate,  straining  her  eyes  at  them 
and  across  the  prairie  as  if  she  could  so  discover 
any  signs  of  her  son  and  daughter.  Her  husband 


336  SED  BEAUTY. 

now  came  out,  and  with  Mrs.  Eagleson's  help  the 
half-frantic  mother  was  conducted  back  into  the 
house. 

The  whooping  and  yelling  red-skins  saw  at  once 
that  their  coming  was  prepared  for,  and  they  were 
not  yet  ready  to  ride  within  easy  range  of  rifles 
held  by  pale-face  settlers  behind  log  walls.  Even 
in  a  time  of  open  war  their  kind  of  "  light  cavalry" 
works  better  in  open  country  and  against  an  enemy 
of  known  inferiority.  They  were  in  a  state  of  in- 
tense and  bloodthirsty  excitement,  but  they  also 
labored  under  one  difficulty  to  which  they  were 
not  accustomed,  for  they  were  without  a  leader  or 
a  distinct  plan  of  action.  They  were  in  need  of 
the  brains  of  Jerry  McCord,  and  these  would  never 
serve  them  again.  "Without  them,  however,  they 
could  make  the  air  hideous  with  threatening  sounds 
and  fill  the  inmates  of  that  house  with  shuddering 
dread. 

The  yells  reached  the  ears  of  Chumley,  upon  his 
couch  of  suffering,  and  he  would  have  made  an 
effort  to  rise  but  for  the  quick-handed  prudence  of 
Uncle  John.  At  that  moment  the  patience  of  all 
the  dogs  seemed  to  have  given  way  at  once,  and 
they  responded  to  the  war-cries  beyond  the  fence 
with  a  furious  chorus  of  their  own. 

There  were  beads  of  perspiration  on  Chumley's 
forehead  as  he  faintly  whispered, — 

"Red  Beauty?" 


A    DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEFS.  337 

"  He  is  here,"  said  Uncle  John.  "  He  says  they 
will  not  attack." 

"  That's  good.     The  Eaglesons  here  ?" 

"  All  here.     All  safe.     Mrs.  Munro  is  here." 

"  I  saw  Perry.     Jessie  ?" 

Uncle  John  had  struggled  hard,  as  a  professional 
man,  to  retain  composure  before  his  patient,  but 
Chumley  read  the  ashen  dread  that  swept  across 
his  face  as  he  answered, — 

"Perry  is  out  on  the  prairie.  Jessie  is  at  the 
other  house." 

"  My  God  in  heaven !" 

There  are  moments  of  supreme  agony  in  human 
lives  which  pass  beyond  the  ideal  thought  of  all 
who  are  not  so  suffering.  No  window  is  into  the 
depths  of  that  hot  darkness,  but  Uncle  John  him- 
self turned  away  from  what  he  saw  in  the  up-look- 
ing eyes  of  the  helpless  man  before  him. 

The  warning  crack  of  a  rifle,  fired  by  Red 
Beauty  through  the  hole  in  the  front  door,  served 
as  an  excuse  to  several  voices  to  exclaim, — 

"  Are  they  coming  ?" 

"  Ugh !  No  come  if  gun  say  keep  away.  Paw- 
nee lose  pony." 

That  was  a  fact.  One  brave  had  ridden  too  near 
the  gate  on  an  errand  of  investigation,  covering 
his  person  behind  his  horse,  and  the  shot  of  the 
old  Potawatamy  had  sent  him  away  on  foot,  for  the 
pony  made  but  one  spring  and  rolled  over  lifeless. 

p        w  29 


338  RED  BEAUTY. 

The  puzzle  of  the  Pawnees  was  to  be  solved  for 
them  in  an  unlooked-for  fashion. 

The  captain  and  his  blue-coats  had  ridden  steadily 
that  day,  but  they  had  not  used  up  their  horses  in 
their  haste.  The  two  "  trailers"  with  them  avowed 
positively  that  the  red-skins  they  were  following 
had  not  turned  to  the  right  or  left  from  the  main 
pathway,  and  their  commander  was  all  the  more 
positive  that  he  was  close  upon  an  important  duty. 
His  keen-eyed  scouts  in  advance  suddenly  sent 
back  to  him  a  shout  of  warning,  and  in  a  moment 
more  he  was  leaning  in  the  saddle  for  a  look  at  the 
gory  heads  of  the  two  dead  Pawnees. 

"  The  fighting  began  here,"  he  said.  "  The  set- 
tlers were  driven  and  Jerry's  gang  followed,  but 
how  came  these  two  to  be  scalped  ?" 

"Friendly  Indian,"  said  one  of  the  "trailer" 
scouts,  himself  a  "  good  Pawnee." 

"  Indian's  work,"  exclaimed  the  captain.  "  For- 
ward!" 

He  was  not  excited,  so  far  as  any  human  eye 
could  discern,  but  the  same  could  hardly  be  said 
of  the  veterans  behind  him.  All  of  these  looked 
brighter  and  happier,  and  three  were  absolutely 
chuckling  over  the  prospect  of  an  actual  "  brush" 
after  their  long  and  weary  hunt. 

The  whooping  and  yelling  that  became  audible 
as  the  squad  of  cavalry  drew  nearer  the  edge  of 
the  woods  did  not  induce  the  captain  to  hasten  the 


A   DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEY'S.  339 

steady  gallop  which  left  his  horses  in  good  wind. 
Then  came  the  crack  of  Red  Beauty's  rifle,  and  all 
it  drew  from  the  clear-headed  leader  was, — 

"Work  going  on.  We're  in  time;"  hut  in  a 
minute  more  the  word  was, — 

"  Sahres !     Forward !     Charge !" 

They  were  in  time  as  completely  as  was  ever  a 
flash  of  lightning  out  of  a  clear  sky.  If  they  had 
fallen  from  it  they  could  not  have  come  as  a  more 
complete  and  bewildering  surprise.  Not  a  Pawnee 
of  Jerry  McCord's  gang  had  the  least  idea  of  wait- 
ing to  he  shot  or  sahred.  One  very  prudent  hrave 
sprang  from  his  pony  and  held  up  his  empty  hands, 
and,  one  after  another,  his  fellows  imitated  him 
exactly.  The  hlue-coats  who  had  prematurely 
chuckled  were  forced  to  sheathe  their  sahres  in 
utter  disappointment  while  the  captain  ordered, — 

"  I'll  attend  to  these,  corporal.  Take  two  men 
and  ride  over  to  that  other  house  and  see  if  all  is 
safe  there." 

That  was  the  right  way  to  make  it  so,  for  all 
these  events  had  occurred  simultaneously,  and  the 
four  Pawnees  who  had  smitten  Jerry  McCord  were 
too  fiercely  impatient  to  linger  long  before  proceed- 
ing to  further  activities.  They  could  approach  the 
house  very  nearly,  under  cover  of  the  stable,  and 
as  yet  not  a  shot  had  been  fired  from  the  windows. 
Perhaps  the  inmates  were  white  squaws  only,  or 
unarmed.  They  would  see  about  it.  The  stable 


340  RED  BEAUTY. 

might  contain  horses,  and  at  all  events  it  would 
give  them  uncommon  pleasure  to  burn  it  down. 

They  were  not  to  have  any  such  treat  as  that. 
A  dismounted  Pawnee  was  at  work  with  matches 
and  some  straw,  and  his  mounted  comrades  waited 
by  him.  Perry  was  remarking  to  Jessie, — 

"I  wish  you  had  let  me  shoot.  I  could  have 
picked  off  one  of  them,  if  not  two,"  when  the 
quick  thud  of  horse-hoofs  behind  the  four  would- 
be  incendiaries  suggested  to  them  the  arrival  of 
more  of  their  own  gang.  They  did  not  so 
much  as  dream  of  white  riders  until  the  corporal 
shouted, — 

"  Now,  boys !"  He  had  been  one  of  the  men  who 
chuckled,  and  he  had  understood  like  a  flash  the 
meaning  of  the  other  flash  leaping  up  among  the 
straw. 

It  was  not  so  much  a  charge  of  three  men  upon 
four  as  a  rush  of  armed  civilization  upon  astounded 
and  paralyzed  barbarism.  The  shout  of  onset  was 
answered  by  yells  of  dismay.  The  savage  on  foot 
threw  himself  flat  upon  the  ground.  Two  others 
wheeled  to  run,  and  the  one  grim  brave  who  turned 
instinctively  to  face  the  corporal  raised  his  tardy 
rifle  only  to  have  it  struck  from  his  hands.  His 
sidelong  dodge  behind  his  horse  was  begun  with 
Indian  quickness,  but  the  return  stroke  of  the 
sabre  was  venomously  rapid.  Cloven  almost  to 
the  eyes,  the  savage  fell  to  the  earth,  and  the  slayer 


A  DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEFS.  341 

of  Jerry  McCord  could  hardly  be  said  to  have  out- 
lived him. 

The  corporal  and  the  two  men  with  him  had 
heard  the  captain's  orders  to  spare  all  who  sur- 
rendered, or  there  would  have  been  no  prisoners 
taken,  thanks  to  the  general  reputation  of  that 
band  of  outcasts.  As  it  was,  there  were  three  dis- 
armed Pawnees,  in  half  a  minute  more,  standing 
still  to  have  their  hands  tied  with  rope  furnished 
by  Perry  Munro. 

He  had  rushed  out  of  the  house  to  take  his  share 
in  the  supposed  fight  the  moment  he  saw  a  blue 
uniform,  but  all  was  over  before  he  had  a  chance 
for  a  shot.  He  had  not  even  noticed  one  interest- 
ing fact  until  the  corporal  and  his  comrades  swung 
their  hats  and  cheered,  suddenly.  Well  they 
might,  for  there  was  Jessie  Munro,  revolver  in 
hand,  only  a  few  paces  behind  her  brother,  and 
the  corporal's  excited  inquiry, — 

"  Now,  boys,  I  say,  isn't  she  just  a  stunner  ?"  did 
but  faintly  indicate  the  picture  of  female  anger  and 
beauty  she  presented. 

"Are  there  troops  at  the  other  house?"  asked 
Perry.  « Is  it  safe  ?" 

"  All  secure,  I  reckon,"  said  the  corporal.  "  We 
got  in  before  any  harm  was  done,  I  should  say. 
Captain  Ingalls  and  his  men  are  there." 

"  Jessie,"  said  Perry,  "  get  your  horse,  quick. 
We  must  go  at  once.  They  don't  know  but  what 

29* 


342  RED  BEAUTY. 

we're  killed.  Corporal,  you  will  find  Jerry  Mc- 
Cord's  body  out  yonder." 

"  You  don't  say !  That'll  be  a  great  relief  to  the 
captain.  How  was  it  ?" 

Brief  but  ample  was  the  hurried  explanation,  but 
Jessie  was  in  the  saddle  by  the  time  the  story 
was  finished,  and  her  brother  had  his  foot  in  the 
stirrup. 

"Mister,"  said  the  corporal,  "you  just  report 
all  that  to  Captain  Ingalls  and  tell  him  we're  waiting 
orders." 

"  I  will,"  said  Perry,  as  he  turned  to  gallop  after 
Jessie,  leaving  the  corporal  to  reply  to  one  of  his 
men: 

"  Beauty  ?  Did  you  say  she  was  a  beauty  ?  I'd 
ride  a  thousand  miles  to  see  that  gal  come  out  of  a 
house  with  her  blood  riz  and  a  cocked  pistol  ready 
to  shoot." 

"  So  would  I ;  and  her  brother's  a  good  feller, 
too ;  but  how  came  Jerry's  own  buzzards  to  light 
onto  him  ?" 

Nobody  could  answer  that  puzzle,  and  all  they 
could  do  was  to  mount  guard  until  the  captain 
should  be  heard  from.  His  despatch  of  the  squad 
to  care  for  the  Munro  house  had  been  made  with 
military  promptness,  while  yet  the  inmates  of 
Chumley's  were  but  just  aware  of  his  arrival.  A 
sudden  whoop  from  the  lips  of  Red  Beauty  had 
been  followed  by, — 


A    DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEY'S.  343 

"  Blue-coat  come !  Ugh !  All  right  now.  Tell 
Chumley,  cavalry !" 

Chumley  heard,  but  he  lay  silent  and  motionless, 
as  if  even  life  had  departed  from  him,  but  Mrs. 
Munro  sprang  forward,  exclaiming, — 

"  Open  the  door !  They  must  go  and  save  my 
children." 

Red  Beauty  seemed  willing  enough  to  have  the 
door  thrown  open,  but  exposed  no  part  of  his  own 
person  beyond  it. 

"  Old  Potawatamy  no  fool,"  he  said  to  Mr. 
Munro.  "  Pawnee  not  know  he  here.  Keep  still 
awhile." 

He  was  providing  against  future  possibilities  of 
meeting  some  of  those  surrendering  Pawnees  at  a 
time  or  place  less  favorable. 

Captain  Ingalls  saw  the  door  open  and  out  of  it 
pour  a  procession,  headed  by  Mrs.  Munro,  which 
quickly  called  upon  him  for  the  exercise  of  some 
firmness.  His  hat  was  off  in  a  moment,  as  he  rode 
forward  to  make  inquiries. 

"Is  anybody  hurt?  Where  is  Mr.  Chumley?" 
he  asked,  with  a  sweeping  bow  to  the  ladies. 

"  My  children,  sir !  My  son !  My  daughter  ! 
They  went  to  the  other  house." 

"  I  have  sent  men  there.  I  shall  know  all  very 
soon." 

"  I  must  go  and  see  for  myself!" 

Mr.  Munro  had  but  glanced  at  the  scene  beyond 


344  RED  BEAUTY. 

the  fence  and  had  hurried  away  after  a  horse,  but 
the  captain  calmly  responded, — 

"  I  think  not,  madame.  I  cannot  permit  any  one 
to  venture  out  till  I  am  sure  the  prairie  is  safe.  As 
soon  as  these  villains  are  tied  up  you  can  have  a 
guard." 

"  I  must  go  at  once.     I  cannot  wait." 

"  It  will  be  but  a  few  minutes."  So  it  appeared 
from  the  will  with  which  his  men  were  doing  that 
work  of  disarming  and  tying,  but  after  a  glance  at 
them  he  again  asked, — 

"  How  is  Mr.  Chumley  ?     Was  he  absent  ?" 

"No,  captain,"  said  Gustav.  "He  was  shot 
through  the  body.  Out  in  the  forest." 

"  Where  the  two  Pawnees  are  lying.  I  met  him 
here,  four  years  ago.  I  remember  your  wife  and 
daughter.  You  were  the  wounded  man  then." 

"  Father,"  almost  whispered  Erica,  "  I  knew 
him." 

He  did  not  tell  her  what  was  in  his  eyes  and 
mind  concerning  the  fair  girl  he  remembered  and 
the  young  lady  he  saw  now,  but  Mr.  Munro  came 
back  from  the  rear  of  the  house  with  his  own  horse 
and  his  wife's  that  had  been  tied  there. 

"  You  will  have  to  wait  a  moment,  sir,"  said  the 
captain,  "till  I  can  spare  a  guard.  I'll  go  over 
with  you  then.  Can  I  see  Mr.  Chumley  ?" 

No  one  answered  him,  but  Mrs.  Munro  threw 
her  arms  around  her  husband's  neck,  sobbing  out, — 


A   DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEPS.  345 

"  Joseph !  Joseph !  I  dare  not  go !  I  dare  not 
know  what  has  happened !" 

It  was  only  a  momentary  break-down,  for  in  an 
instant  more  she  said  to  the  steady-eyed  captain  of 
cavalry, — 

"  I  am  their  mother,  sir." 

"  And  I  am  responsible  for  your  safety,  madame, 
and  for  that  of  all  here.  It  cannot  be  long  now." 

Nevertheless  the  minutes  did  go  by,  and  each 
seemed  an  age,  until  one  of  the  "trailers"  who 
had  been  scouting  back  and  forth  upon  the  prairie 
came  in  to  report, — 

"  Two  coming,  sir.     Man.     Woman." 

"  Perry !     Jessie !"  gasped  Mrs.  Munro. 

"  I  hope  so,  madame.  My  men  are  probably  at 
your  house." 

"  And  they've  not  been  in  any  danger  at  all. 
Perhaps  they  do  not  know  the  Pawnees  are  here." 

That  was  a  wild  surmise,  but  there  was  comfort 
in  it,  and  it  helped  her  to  wait  with  better  patience 
an  arrival  so  very  near  to  come.  Uncle  John  now 
made  his  appearance,  and  at  last  the  captain  ob- 
tained a  sober  answer  concerning  Chumley. 

"  See  him  ?  Certainly,  but  he  is  in  a  high  fever, — 
delirious.  This  excitement  is  the  worst  thing  that 
could  have  come." 

Nevertheless,  the  captain's  duty  required  actual 
seeing,  and  also  that  when  Perry  and  Jessie  came 
the  former  should  answer  official  questions  before 


346  RED  BEAUTY. 

even  being  kissed  by  his  mother.  That  was  of  some- 
what less  importance  considering  the  half-frantic 
nature  of  the  meeting  between  her  and  Jessie,  not 
to  speak  of  Erica  and  Mrs.  Eagleson. 

"  So  the  corporal  had  to  cut  down  one  of  them," 
said  the  captain.  "  That's  good.  And  you  saw 
Jerry  McCord  killed  by  his  own  Pawnees.  That 
is  very  good  indeed.  Your  account  of  the  skirmish 
in  the  forest  explains  the  scalp-taking.  Where  is 
Red  Beauty  now  ?  I  know  him." 

"  He  must  be  in  the  house." 

"Keeping  out  of  sight  of  these  fellows.  Cun- 
ning old  fox.  They've  been  led  away  now.  I 
declare,  he  knows  it.  There  he  comes." 

It  was  a  fact.  Not  one  movement  outside  of  the 
house  had  escaped  the  watchfulness  of  the  old 
Potawatamy,  and  here  he  was  to  say  "  How"  and 
to  tell  the  truth  about  this  last  operation  of  Jerry 
McCord's  Pawnees.  He  did  pretty  well,  except 
for  omissions  relating  to  the  dead  brave  in  the 
ravine,  until  the  captain  said  to  him, — 

"  So  it  was  you  who  took  the  scalps.  That  ac- 
counts for  them." 

"  Ugh !     No.     Good  Indian.     No  take  'calp." 

"  Who,  then  ?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  Boy  take  one.  Make  present  yellow-hair 
squaw.  Old  pill-man  take  one.  Lose  hair  some 
day,  perhaps.  Then  put  on  Pawnee  hair." 

"That  will   do,"   said  the   captain.     "What  a 


A    DARK  HOUR  AT  CHUMLEVS.  347 

witness  you  would  make  in  a  tight  case !  But  I'd 
rather  you'd  swear  on  my  side  than  against  me." 

It  was  a  strange  time  for  any  laughing,  and  Mrs. 
Munro  said  so  to  the  rest  when  she  heard  the  mili- 
tary accompaniment  of  that  reply,  but  Perry  was 
now  coming  towards  them,  and  she  had  no  mind, 
just  then,  for  any  other  fact. 

Uncle  John  had  returned  to  the  house,  and  was 
in  the  front  room  when  his  niece  slipped  in. 

"It's  been  an  awful  day  for  all  of  us,  Jessie," 
said  he.  "  I'm  so  glad  the  cavalry  came  in  time. 
The  captain  seems  an  uncommonly  fine  character." 

"  How  is  Mr.  Chumley  ?" 

"  He  was  doing  well  enough  until  he  heard  that 
you  were  in  danger,"  said  Uncle  John,  with  entire 
simplicity.  "  That  excited  him  fearfully.  I  don't 
know  what  to  say  about  the  consequences.  Don't 
look  in.  He  is  talking  incoherently  about  you  and 
everything  else." 


348  RED  BEAUTY. 

CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

A  SCENE   IN  A  KITCHEN. 

MBS.  MUNBO  seemed  to  think  that  she  had  a  debt 
of  some  sort  to  pay  to  Captain  Ingalls.  So  did 
Gustav  and  Mrs.  Eagleson,  but  it  was  many  minutes 
before  it  occurred  to  either  of  them  that  it  could  be 
paid  better  in  coffee  and  other  refreshments  for 
him  and  his  men  than  in  the  most  grateful  kind  of 
conversation.  Those  minutes  had  been  remark- 
ably well  occupied  and  utilized,  nevertheless. 

It  could  not  have  been  the  unmistakable  admira- 
tion in  the  captain's  respectful  eyes  which  caused 
Erica  to  beat  a  retreat  into  the  house  and  through 
it  to  the  kitchen.  Perry  had  seen  both,  and  yet 
he  would  have  denied  that  any  jealous  uneasiness 
led  him  to  follow  closely  upon  the  heels  of  that 
retreat.  However,  so  it  happened,  there  she  was 
and  there  was  he,  with  no  better  other  company 
than  Bob,  who  had  followed  Perry. 

It  was  strange,  perhaps,  that  so  intensely  timid 
an  expression  should  come  upon  her  face,  now  that 
all  the  Pawnees  were  tied  up,  or  that  a  man  of  his 
ready  courage  should  hesitate  and  look  around  the 
room,  instead  of  right  down  into  her  face,  for  a 
moment,  and  should  then  stammer  out, — 


A  SCENE  IN  A  KITCHEN.  349 

"  He's  a  splendid  fellow,  Erica.  I'm  so  sorry  he 
was  hit." 

1 '  Oh ,  Perry !     Perry !     I'm  so  glad ! " 

"  Glad  Chumley  is  hurt?" 

"  No !  No !  I  love  him.  I  hope  he  will  get 
well  soon.  But  you,  Perry, — we  were  afraid  they 
had  killed  you." 

It  was  entirely  the  correct  thing  for  her  to  say, 
but  she  had  very  nearly  lost  control  of  her  manner 
of  saying  it.  She  must  have  been  unaware  that 
she  was  trembling,  that  her  voice  sounded  pre- 
ternaturally  sweet,  and  that  she  looked  more 
beautiful  to  Perry  Munro  than  ever  before. 

His  courage  had  not  fully  returned  to  him.  For 
some  reason  he  also  was  trembling.  Nevertheless 
his  eyes  now  looked  into  hers  in  such  a  manner  that 
her  hands  went  up  as  if  to  cover  them,  but  only  to 
be  caught  on  their  way  by  both  his  own. 

"  Erica,"  he  whispered,  "  would  you  have  been 
very  sorry  if  they  had  killed  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  Perry !" 

His  courage  must  have  entirely  come  again,  for 
he  drew  her  very  near  to  him  and  she  did  not  turn 
her  face  away  nor  strive  to  escape. 

"  Erica !     Forever  ?" 

"Perry." 

There  was  half  a  minute  of  silence  in  that  room, 
except  for  one  anxiously  inquiring  whine  from  Bob, 
and  then  Perry  once  more  whispered, — 

30 


350  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  I  meant  to  tell  you  some  day,  but  I  was  not  sure. 
I  loved  you  so,  Erica." 

"  I  knew  it  all,  Perry,  when  I  heard  about  you, 
there  in  the  woods,  by  Mr.  Chumley.  I  was  so 
sorry  for  him ;  but  you, — oh,  Perry  !" 

They  were  very  young  and  they  were  wonder- 
fully happy,  but  they  were  in  the  kitchen  of  a  log 
farm-house  on  a  very  wicked  earth,  and  that  especial 
moment  could  not  last. 

Mrs.  Munro's  hospitality  wits  had  come  to  her, 
and  the  captain  had  responded  with  hungry  cor- 
diality to  what  she  said  about  refreshments  for  him 
and  his  men,  after  their  long,  hard  ride.  He  said 
he  would  go  over  and  inspect  affairs  at  the  other 
house,  taking  Mr.  Munro  with  him,  and  be  back 
by  the  time  the  proposed  cooking  could  be  done. 
His  next  movements  declared  by  their  rapidity  that 
he  meant  to  keep  his  word,  and  the  two  women 
started  for  the  kitchen,  Mrs.  Eagleson  remarking, — 

"  I'm  so  glad !  Plenty  of  ham,  bacon,  smoked 
fish,  half  a  deer  hung  up  in  the  meat-house;"  and 
Mrs.  Munro's  inquiring  response  was  uttered  as  she 
entered  the  kitchen, — 

"  Half  a  deer  ?"  and  then  she  suddenly  exclaimed, 
"  My  dear !" 

"  Yes,  mother,"  said  Perry,  in  a  tone  of  triumph, 
but  without  changing  the  position  of  his  right  arm, 
"  but  this  is  a  whole  dear, — she  is  mine !" 

"  Oh,  Erica !"  that  was  what  Mrs.  Eagleson  said 


A   SCENE  IN  A   KITCHEN.  351 

over  Mrs.  Munro's  shoulder,  and  for  some  seconds 
afterwards  the  conversation  was  not  easy  to  report. 
The  two  mothers,  however,  appeared  to  be  entirely 
satisfied  with  the  conduct  of  their  children.  All 
the  rude  kitchen  around  them  seemed  to  expand 
into  something  unseen  and  wonderful,  and  did  not 
contract  to  its  usual  size  until  Mrs.  Eagleson  ex- 
claimed,— 

"  The  captain  !  The  soldiers !  The  fire  is  dead 
out !" 

It  was  at  about  the  same  time  that  the  corporal 
asked  of  Red  Beauty,  out  in  front  of  the  house, — 

"  I  say,  do  you  know  if  either  of  those  young 
women  wants  to  get  married?  Because,  if  they 
do " 

"  Ugh !  Blue-coat  fool.  Not  know.  Both  squaw 
belong  to  Red  Beauty.  Soldier  come  time  to  drive 
away  Pawnee.  Too  late  get  squaw." 

"Look  here,"  responded  the  grinning  corporal, 
"  if  you'd  have  your  mouth  sewed  up  for  an  inch  on 
each  side,  and  get  the  bridge  of  your  nose  taken 
down,  and  get  yourself  boiled  and  ironed,  you'd  be 
a  good-looking  old  Indian." 

"  Better  look  than  soldier  now.  Ugh !  Soldier 
got  face  like  chipmunk.  Run  away  from  man  own 
him." 

There  was  little  profit  to  be  had  in  an  exchange 
of  compliments  with  the  old  Potawatamy,  but  the 
members  of  that  squad  of  cavalry  who  had  not  seen 


352  RED  BEAUTY. 

Jessie  or  Erica  were  simply  skeptics  of  what  their 
comrades  told  them.  They  should  have  seen  them 
when  they  met,  just  after  Mrs.  Eagleson  set  herself 
at  work  around  the  cook-stove.  Mrs.  Munro  had 
walked  into  the  front  room  ahead  of  Perry  and 
Erica.  She  had  found  Jessie  staring  out  of  the 
window,  like  a  girl  in  a  dream,  and  had  whispered 
something  in  her  ear  not  audible  to  others. 

"  Erica  ?  Perry  ?"  exclaimed  Jessie.  "  I'm  so 
glad;"  but  the  rest  of  her  expression  of  it  required 
no  words  and  was  very  eloquent. 

There  was  much  cooking  done  at  Chumley's 
house  during  the  remainder  of  that  day.  The  cap- 
tain and  his  men  attended  to  all  that  remained  of 
their  duties  relating  to  the  Pawnees,  dead  or  alive, 
and  when  Jessie  Munro  and  her  mother  went  home 
they  found  no  traces  remaining  of  the  terrible  occur- 
rences in  or  near  it. 

The  parrot  gave  them  a  noisy  welcome,  and  then 
for  the  first  time  Jessie  was  aware  that  she  had 
actually  heard  and  now  remembered  his  vociferous 
remarks  during  the  visit  of  Jerry  McCord. 

"  He  called  him  all  the  hard  names  he  knew," 
she  said  to  her  mother. 

"  Potawatamy — devil — Pawnee,"  said  Poll,  with 
needless  emphasis. 

"  I  wonder  where  they  buried  him  ?"  said  Mrs. 
Munro.  "  He  was  a  man  who  might  have  had  a 
better  end." 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  353 

"  It's  over  in  the  woods  somewhere." 
He  would  need  no  tombstone,  that  was  certain, 
and  if  one  had  been  put  up,  no  man  in  that  region 
could  have  told  what  name  to  chisel  upon  it. 

Two  weary  families  lay  down  to  rest  that  night 
— to  sleep  or  not  to  sleep,  as  the  case  might  be — 
in  well-guarded  security.  Uncle  John  declared 
that  he  had  taken  a  good  nap  and  that  he  alone 
must  watch  by  Chumley's  bedside,  and  the  rest 
assented  without  a  suspicion  that  his  reasons  were 
other  than  strictly  surgical  in  their  "  character." 


CHAPTEE    XXXIV. 

HOW  THE  STOBY  ENDED. 

THE  day  following  a  great  excitement  is  apt  to 
be  one  of  noticeable  quietness. 

Even  the  captain  and  his  men  got  quietly  away 
with  their  captives,  but  not  until  after  the  former 
had  visited  both  homesteads,  as  he  said,  to  "pay 
his  respects  to  the  ladies,"  but  really  for  one  more 
look  at  Jessie  and  Erica,  that  he  might  settle  a  sad 
dispute  in  his  own  mind  as  to  their  comparative 
claims  to  perfection.  He  rode  away  more  in  doubt 
than  ever. 

x  80* 


354  RED   BEAUTY. 

Perry  Munro  awoke  and  came  out  for  a  sunrise 
look  at  the  prairie  and  forest,  with  an  idea  that 
they  had  been  transformed  from  a  troubled  range 
for  Pawnees  and  horse-thieves  into  a  sort  of  Eden. 
At  all  events  he  believed  that  he  knew  of  one  blue- 
eyed  angel  in  it,  and  that  he  should  see  her  very 
soon  after  breakfast. 

Uncle  John  could  hardly  have  been  said  to 
awake,  for  he  had  not  been  asleep.  He  had  faith- 
fully watched  his  "  case"  during  the  entire  night, 
and  both  he  and  Mr.  Chumley  were  in  states  of 
high  fever.  The  latter  had  a  manifest  right  to  be 
so,  for  his  delirium  was  a  natural  consequence  of 
the  work  of  Jerry  McCord's  bullet.  His  volunteer 
surgeon  reported,  with  a  very  doleful  shake  of  the 
head,  that  he  feared  the  wound  was  taking  on 
a  bad  character.  He  had  yet  another  cause  for  the 
fever  which  was  upon  him,  but  he  made  no  men- 
tion of  it  to  any  one  until  after  Perry  Munro  came 
over  to  take  his  turn  as  watcher.  Jessie  came  with 
him,  and  Perry's  first  errand  did  not  take  him  to 
the  sick-room.  Hers  did,  and  there  was  no  reason 
why  she  should  not  be  permitted  to  look  at  the 
man  who  had  been  shot  on  her  account.  She  took 
a  long,  long  look,  for  Uncle  John  had  gone  to  find 
Perry  and  give  him  careful  directions  to  do  almost 
nothing  whatever  for  Chumley.  He  was  to  let 
matters  take  their  own  course  until  Uncle  John 
should  wake  up  and  come  back  with  professional 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  355 

skill  and  wisdom.  For  some  minutes,  therefore, 
Jessie  was  alone  in  that  room  and  acting  as  tempo- 
rary nurse  and  watcher.  She  drifted  almost  un- 
intentionally across  from  the  door  to  the  window, 
and  by  that  stood  the  writing-desk.  Several  en- 
velopes, which  may  have  contained  letters,  lay 
where  Chumley  had  left  them  when  suddenly 
called  away  the  previous  morning.  Her  eyes  fell 
upon  them  very  naturally  and  innocently.  They 
were  all  addressed,  in  a  plain,  business-like  hand, 
to  "  Richard  Cholmondeley,  Esq.,"  and  Jessie  knew 
of  no  such  man.  The  name  sounded  English  and 
aristocratic,  and  led  her  to  note  the  fact  that  the 
stamps  on  the  envelopes  came  from  a  British  post- 
office.  Then  she  felt  that  she  was  prying,  and 
turned  her  eyes  away.  She  was  still  thinking  of 
that  name  when  Uncle  John  sent  to  her  a  loud 
whisper, — 

"  Jessie,  come  here,  I  want  to  see  you." 
He  turned  away  as  she  came  out,  and  she  was 
compelled  to  follow  him  through  the  front  door 
and  around  into  the  shadow  of  the  house  before 
she  could  obtain  any  farther  explanation.  Even 
then  he  began  in  a  way  that  puzzled  her,  for  he 
said, — 

"I  suppose  you  know  more  of  Mr.  Chumley's 
character  than  I  do.  I  was  aware  that  there  was 
such  a  family,  and  that  they  spelled  the  name  in 
the  old  way  in  spite  of  the  pronunciation.  If  I 


356  RED  BEAUTY. 

were  you  I  would  Americanize  it,  or  your  friends 
will  never  get  it  right.  He  and  you  have  been 
more  secret  than  you  should  have  been,  but  I  sup- 
pose your  mother  knows.  I  found  this  on  his 
writing-desk,  and  I've  let  nobody  see  it.  He 
would  doubtless  have  taken  better  care  of  it  if  he 
had  not  been  shot." 

As  he  spoke  he  held  out  to  his  altogether  con- 
founded niece  a  miniature-case,  wide  open,  and  she 
took  it  in  a  hand  that  trembled  visibly. 

"  Uncle  John  !     What  does  this  mean  ?" 

"  It's  a  right  good  likeness,  only  it  isn't  just 
your  expression.  I  didn't  know  you  had  it." 

"I  never  did  have  it.  I  don't  know  anything 
about  it.  It  isn't  me.  Hide  it,  Uncle  John.  Go 
put  it  away.  Don't  let  anybody  see  it." 

Her  crimson  face  had  so  much  genuine  distress 
in  it  that  his  very  heart  melted.  It  was  a  case  that 
he  did  not  at  all  understand,  and  he  said  so  in 
several  ways. 

"  Nevertheless,"  he  added,  "  you  have  a  right  to 
your  secret.  He  may  die.  I'm  almost  afraid  he 
will.  Then  of  course  you  wouldn't  want  anything 
said  about  it.  My  old  notion  was  that  he  meant  to 
marry  Erica.  I  thought  you  thought  so.  It  shows 
how  a  man  may  be  mistaken.  No,  I  won't  touch 
that  picture  again.  Seems  to  me  your  mother 
ought  to  know." 

Jessie  felt  as  if  some  of  her  wits  were  leaving 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  357 

her,  for  Uncle  John  turned  briskly  away,  sternly 
refusing  to  assume  the  custody  of  that  love-token. 
It  seemed  to  burn  her  fingers,  and  she  wished  to 
drop  it  in  the  grass.  Still,  as  she  looked  at  it  again 
and  again,  she  wondered  when  and  where  it  could 
have  been  taken,  and  how  Mr.  Chumley  came  by 
it.  The  whole  world  was  all  a  mystery,  and  it 
contained  no  Garden  of  Eden  whatever. 

Uncle  John  went  into  the  house  and  into  the 
bedroom  opposite  Chumley's,  and  in  five  minutes 
more  he  was  soundly  asleep,  as  he  had  a  perfect 
right  to  be.  Jessie  did  not  dare  to  go  in  for  some 
minutes.  She  wanted  to  see  her  mother,  and  at 
the  same  time  she  did  not  wish  to  see  a  living  soul. 

"  Perry  is  in  there.  I'll  tell  him  to  put  it  back. 
It  isn't  mine." 

It  was  more  an  impulse  than  a  properly  con- 
sidered purpose,  but  almost  before  she  clearly  un- 
derstood what  she  was  doing  she  was  at  the  door 
of  Chumley's  room,  whispering  to  her  brother, — 

"  Perry,  take  it  and  put  it  back  in  the  writing- 
desk.  It  isn't  mine.  Uncle  John  brought  it  away 
by  mistake." 

Then  she  flitted  away,  and  he  did  not  see  her 
again  until  the  next  morning,  for  he  had  something 
to  say  to  Erica  that  evening,  and  was  away  from 
home  a  little  late  for  so  young  a  man.  When  he 
first  took  the  miniature  from  his  sister's  hand, 
however,  he  had  said  to  himself, — 


358  v        RED  BEAUTY. 

"I  declare!  Is  that  so?  Well!  If  they  haven't 
kept  still  about  it!  Erica  will  be  as  glad  as  I  am. 
It  would  be  awful  if  he  should  die  now.  How  she 
must  feel !  That's  what  made  him  so  furious  about 
Jerry  McCord." 

Erica,  when  he  told  her,  was  indeed  delighted, 
and  determined  to  see  Jessie  as  soon  as  she  could 
and  tell  her  so. 

Jessie  had  heard  something  more  about  it  before 
that  time  came,  for  her  mother  was  at  Chumley's 
house  when  Uncle  John  awoke  in  the  afternoon, 
and  he  did  his  duty  well  before  he  went  in  to  relieve 
Perry. 

"  We  must  be  very  careful  what  we  say  before 
Jessie,"  he  said.  "  She  must  be  suffering  terrible 
anxiety." 

"  Jessie  ?    Why,  John,  what  is  there  about  her  ?" 

Then  came  out  all  he  knew,  and  as  much  more 
about  the  discovery  of  the  miniature  and  of  the 
correct  way  of  spelling  Richard  Cholmondeley's 
long  English  name. 

Mrs.  Munro  had  a  right  to  be  vexed  with  her 
daughter  for  concealing  so  important  a  family  mat- 
ter, and  she  spoke  to  her  husband  about  it,  with  a 
mind  quite  misty  as  to  what  her  own  duty  might 
be. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said,  "  let  her  alone.  I'm  sure 
she  has  trouble  enough  just  now.  If  he  lives  you 
will  know  all  about  it,  and  if  he  should  die " 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  359 

"  I  do  so  hope  lie  will  not !" 

"  So  do  I.    Let  her  alone." 

She  consented,  but  when  she  looked  again  and 
again  upon  her  daughter's  face,  going  and  coming 
around  the  house,  so  full  of  trouble  and  perplexity, 
her  motherly  heart  melted,  and  kept  on  melting 
more  and  more,  until  at  last  she  put  an  arm  around 
Jessie's  neck  and  kissed  her  and  said  to  her, — 

"I  do  so  hope  you  are  not  to  lose  him.  Uncle 
John  told  me." 

"  Mother !  Mother !  Don't  speak  of  it.  I  shall 
go  insane  !  It  is  not  my  picture." 

"  It's  his  now,  but  Uncle  John  says  the  likeness 
is  admirable." 

""What  shall  I  do?  I  do  not  know  anything 
about  it !  It  isn't  mine !" 

Mrs.  Munro  was  mystified,  and,  at  the  end  of 
half  an  hour's  broken-up  conversation,  she  was  in 
what  she  herself  called  a  "  state  of  mind,"  for  it 
was  evident  that  Jessie  was  telling  the  truth. 

"As  soon  as  he  is  able  to  speak,"  she  said,  at 
last ;  and  she  did  not  go  any  further  or  say  what  she 
proposed  to  do  then,  but  she  promised  Jessie  to 
trouble  her  no  more  about  it  for  the  present.  Mr. 
Munro  and  Uncle  John  rigidly  confined  themselves 
to  looking  wise  and  kindly. 

Perry  was  out  early  the  next  morning,  with  a 
general  disposition  to  sing.  He  and  Bob  saw  Jessie 
go  to  milk  the  cows,  and  went  to  join  her  at  once. 


360  RED  BEAUTY. 

Her  eyes  were  red  and  her  cheeks  pale,  and  Perry's 
heart  smote  him. 

"  I  won't  say  a  word,  Jessie.  I  believe  he  is 
going  to  get  well." 

"Don't  say  any  more,  Perry." 

"  I'll  go  right  away.     Come,  Bob." 

Bob  hunted  around  for  a  stick  and  went  and  laid 
it  down  by  Jessie,  in  token  of  good  will,  and  then 
she  was  rid  of  them  both. 

An  hour  or  so  later  it  was  not  possible  to  get  rid 
of  Erica.  All  that  could  be  done  was  to  accept  her 
intensely  sisterly  expressions  of  sympathy  and  af- 
fection, and  give  up  the  miniature  business  in  silent 
despair. 

She  had  two  weeks  of  it  before  her.  A  whole 
fortnight  of  mystery,  during  which  every  soul 
around  her  was  painfully  kind  and  forbearing.  She 
was  also  made  to  understand  that  any  and  all  ex- 
planations were  out  of  order,  and  that  the  Garden 
of  Eden  around  Chumley's  Post  was  pretty  well 
satisfied  with  the  amount  of  romance  it  had  on  hand. 

Mr.  Richard  Cholmondeley  had  nothing  worse 
than  a  gunshot  wound  to  endure,  so  far  as  anybody 
else  knew,  for  just  one  half  of  Jessie's  truly  awful 
fortnight.  Up  to  that  time  Uncle  John  had  not 
felt  that  the  character  of  the  case  justified  him  in 
speaking  of  anything  but  strictly  surgical  afiairs. 
There  came  a  morning,  however,  destitute  of  fever 
and  accompanied  by  symptoms  which  implied  great 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  361 

discretion  on  the  part  of  Jerry  McCord's  bullet. 
It  had  turned  to  the  right  to  get  out  between  the 
ribs  before  it  had  done  irreparable  mischief.  It 
must  also  have  shoved  some  things  aside  without 
breaking  them.  Uncle  John  felt  that  his  patient 
could  safely  be  trusted  to  bear  a  trifle  of  pleasant 
information. 

"  I  have  not  mentioned  it  before,  Mr.  Chumley. 
When  we  brought  you  in  from  the  woods  we  found 
your  room  in  some  disorder, — letters  out  and  so 
forth." 

"  I  left  it  in  great  haste." 

"  Remarkable  old-fashioned  way  of  spelling  your 
name.  I  gathered  them  up  and  shoved  them  into 
the  desk.  My  niece's  picture " 

"  Had  I  left  that  out  ?    Heavens !" 

"  I  asked  her  what  to  do  with  it." 

""What?     She  saw  it?" 

"  I  gave  it  to  her,  and  her  brother  tells  me  she 
made  him  put  it  back  again.  I  have  not  spoken  to 
her  about  it  from  that  day  to  this." 

A  long,  low  groan  from  his  patient  answered 
him,  and  he  had  an  alarmed  feeling  that  he  had  ex- 
ceeded his  duty.  Not  for  worlds  would  he  have 
permitted  another  breath  upon  that  subject,  and  he 
forbade  it  to  all  other  watchers.  For  one  whole 
week  the  mystery  and  romance  had  complete  pos- 
session of  that  sick-room.  Chumley  had  flushes 
of  fever,  every  now  and  then,  which  Uncle  John 

Q  81 


362  RED  BEAUTY. 

could  not  understand,  and  he  was  almost  afraid  to 
give  him  quinine  yet. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  the  week  that  Erica  Eagle- 
son  came  in  to  see  her  friend,  for  the  first  time, 
and  she  brought  with  her  a  fixed,  settled,  cour- 
ageous purpose,  which  she  had  not  even  confided 
to  Perry.  It  was  good  for  any  sick  man  to  have 
such  a  face  as  hers  shine  down  on  him  and  say  how 
glad  were  all  that  he  was  so  rapidly  recovering. 

"  Jessie  will  get  well  now,  too.  Oh,  Mr.  Chum- 
ley,  why  do  you  not  send  for  her  ?  Speak  to  her !" 

"Erica?  If  she  would  come.  Oh,  if  I  could 
but  say  one  word !" 

"  I  must  go  right  away,  Mr.  Chumley.  I  can't 
wait.  Good-by.  I  will  come  again  as  soon  as  I 
can." 

She  was  gone,  a  swiftly  willing  bearer  of  that 
message  to  Jessie  Munro,  and  to  enjoy  the  latter's 
astonished  response : 

"  See  me,  Erica?    He  asked  to  see  me  ?" 

"  He  said,  '  Oh,  if  she  would  come !  If  I  could 
say  one  word.'  He  looked  so — so  earnest." 

"  I  will  go, — I  must, — I  must  put  an  end  to  this ! 
I  cannot  endure  it !" 

.     "  I  couldn't,"  said  Erica,  "  if  it  was  Perry  instead 
of  Mr.  Chumley." 

Jessie  heard  in  silence,  with  burning  cheeks. 
'Leaving  Erica  to  say  what  she  migjit  to  her  mother, 
she  put  on  her  hat  and  set  out  for  Chumley's.  She 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  3^3 

seemed  to  be  walking  in  a  dim  and  troubled  dream 
till  she  reached  the  house,  and  all  in  such  another 
dream,  though  wide  awake,  had  he  been  lying 
since  Erica's  flitting,  and  Perry  Munro  had  been 
sitting  by  him,  dreaming  of  Erica. 

Perry  saw  his  sister's  face  in  the  door-way,  and 
the  thought  in  his  mind  was, — 

"  Come  at  last  ?  She  should  have  been  here 
long  ago.  I  never  saw  her  look  so  white,  but  she 
won't  faint,"  and  he  was  out  of  the  room  like  a 
flash. 

Mr.  Chumley's  face  was  pale  enough,  but  his 
low,  firm  voice  had  no  sign  of  weakness  in  it  as  he 
said, — 

"  It  was  not  my  fault,  Miss  Munro.  Whether  I 
live  or  die  is  of  little  consequence,  but  I  must 
speak.  You  saw  the  miniature  ?" 

"  I  did,  and  I  have  wondered " 

She  paused,  and  he  said  to  her, — 

"  It  is  a  wonder  to  me,  Miss  Munro.  It  is  the 
likeness  of  my  brother's  wife." 

The  quick  blood  mantled  hotly  to  Jessie's  tem- 
ples, and  she  could  not  find  in  all  her  world  one 
word  to  say. 

"  That  is  not  all,  Miss  Munro.  You  will  hear 
me,  will  you  not  ?  There  was  a  boy  once,  and  a 
beautiful  woman  made  a  fool  of  him.  He  sup- 
posed she  had  a  soul  and  a  heart,  and  she  may  have 
had.  He  declared,  years  ago,  that  she  had  neither, 


364  RED   BEAUTY. 

for  she  cast  him  aside  like  an  old  glove,  and 
married  his  elder  brother.  She  also  married  a 
good  property,  for  the  boy  had  only  an  allowance 
of  a  hundred  pounds  a  year.  That  is  the  way 
with  entailed  estates  in  England.  The  boy  left 
home  and  country  and  came  to  America,  and 
hated  all  women  and  many  men,  until  there  came 
to  him  a  woman  who  taught  him  that  he  had 
simply  been  a  fool.  Shall  I  tell  the  rest  ?" 

He  had  told  it  steadily  and  well  so  far,  and  she 
felt  that  she  could  not  on  any  account  cut  him  off, 
but  there  is  in  all  of  us  an  "  imp  of  the  perverse." 
He  is  especially  busy  on  stormy  days,  and  she  per- 
versely answered  him  : 

"  They  are  so  happy,  Perry  and  Erica,"  as  if  the 
fact  of  that  happiness  had  anything  whatever  to  do 
with  his  misery  or  the  remaining  history  of  it.  It 
was  but  an  old  and  withered  idea,  blown  in  the 
way  unduly,  and  his  only  comment  upon  it  was, — 

"  No  one  is  more  glad  of  that  than  I  am.  I  had 
calculated  upon  it.  But  oh,  Jessie  Munro,  if  those 
fiends  had  harmed  you  I  should  have  gone  mad !" 

A  flashing  vision  of  her  encounter  with  Jerry 
McCord  burnt  through  her  mind  and  made  her 
bend  her  head.  Before  she  could  recover  any 
power  to  answer  him,  he  went  on : 

"  That  was  MY  history,  Miss  Munro.  It  was 
years  ago.  You  saw  the  miniature.  The  same 
face  came  to  me  again, — a  woman  with  a  heart  and 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  3(55 

with  a  soul.     I  did  not  know  that  at  first,  but  it 
was  the  face  my  very  life  was  waiting  for." 

He  might  have  paused  there,  but  it  was  now 
turned  full  upon  him,  and  something  in  it  sugges- 
tive of  a  rosy  sunrise  encouraged  him  to  add, — 

"  It  was  your  face, — whether  I  die  or  live, — your 
face — MissMunro?  Jessie?  Am  I  delirious  again, 
or  has  it  really  come  ?" 

If  he  had  been  well  and  upon  his  feet,  she  prob- 
ably would  not  have  moved  a  step  or  uttered  a 
word ;  but  he  lay  there,  wounded  and  helpless.  If 
she  should  run  away  he  could  not  follow  her.  Per- 
haps he  might  die  and  never  hear  the  very  answer 
she  wanted  to  give  him  now.  He  was  a  magnet 
irresistible,  and  she  went  nearer,  nearer,  until  the 
one  arm  he  could  use  swept  around  her,  and  then 
she  found  voice  to  say, — 

"  Are  you  sure  ?     Am  I " 

"  With  all  my  soul  I  say  again,  I  was  a  boy  and 
a  fool.  You  are  my  first  love,  Jessie." 

"  Oh,  Richard !  You  must  live  !  I  have  been 
so  miserable." 

She  did  not  look  so  just  then,  and  his  face  wore 
a  sort  of  promise  of  speedy  recovery.  Perhaps  she 
saw  it,  for  the  smile  on  her  own  grew  brighter. 
The  magnet  was  still  at  work,  too,  and  since  his 
lips  could  not  rise  to  hers  the  smile  had  to  come 
down  and  meet  the  "  promise." 

Perry  Munro's  duty  as  watcher  did  not  at  all  de- 

31* 


366  i      RED  BEAUTY. 

niand  that  he  should  look  into  that  room  very  soon, 
but  there  is  a  great  deal  of  stupidity  among  young 
men.  His  mind  was  troubled  very  much  about  the 
happiness  of  other  people,  being  himself  so  very 
happy;  but  when  he  walked  past  the  wide-open 
door  and  glanced  through  it  as  he  did  so,  and  saw 
his  sister  sitting  by  the  bedside  with  Chumley's 
hand  in  her  own,  he  remarked  to  himself, — 

"  Just  as  Erica  said  it  would  be.  They've  made 
up  at  once." 

There  had  been  no  quarrel,  but  the  "  making 
up"  was  all  that  could  be  asked. 

Uncle  John  was  the  only  member  of  the  Munro 
family  who  never  could  quite  get  a  correct  under- 
standing of  the  story  of  that  miniature,  but  none  of 
them  felt  more  pride  over  Chumley's  rapid  recovery. 

When  the  next  October  days  were  brightest,  one 
of  them  found  the  neighborhood  of  Chumley's 
Post  in  charge  of  some  live-stock,  presided  over  by 
a  cat,  a  parrot,  and  five  dogs.  All  the  human  in- 
habitants were  twenty  miles  away,  on  a  visit  to  the 
nearest "  minister." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perry  Munro  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Richard  Cholmondeley  remained  away  until  late  in 
November,  but  the  rest  returned  the  same  day. 

The  most  remarkable  member  of  the  wedding 
party  had  also  been  the  most  silent,  and  it  was  not 
until  they  were  all  on  their  way  home  that  Mrs. 
Munro  asked  him, — 


HOW  THE  STORY  ENDED.  357 

"Now,  Red  Beauty,  what  do  you  think  of  a 
pale-face  wedding  ?" 

"  Think  Indian  heap,  fool.  Give  squaw  father 
blanket,  pony,  gun.  Heap  good  deal.  White  man 
keep  gun,  keep  blanket,  keep  pony,  give  old  preach 
man  ten  dollar  for  scold  squaw.  Ugh  !" 

His  idea  of  the  difference  in  the  comparative  cost 
of  the  two  systems  may  have  been  limited,  but  his 
idea  of  his  duty  to  remain  as  a  sort  of  life-long 
retainer  of  "  Chumley"  was  not,  and  he  remained. 

The  story  of  Jerry  McCord's  death  had  long 
since  been  in  the  newspapers,  and  had  been  read 
by  one  set  of  bank  officers  with  deep  interest.  The 
only  human  beings  with  a  legal  right  to  draw  out 
the  winnings  of  his  dark  career  would  never  know 
to  what  bloody  end  it  had  led  their  lost  son  and 
brother. 

Not  long  after  the  wedding,  there  was  a  break- 
fast-table gathering  in  one  of  the  stately  homes  of 
England.  The  morning  mail  had  been  received, 
and  the  elderly  lady  at  the  head  of  the  table  opened 
first  a  letter  and  then  a  little  packet,  which  had 
come  all  the  way  from  America. 

"  Chelmsford !"  she  exclaimed.  "  Laura,  love, 
Richard  has  married  an  American  girl.  He  has 
sent  her  likeness.  Oh,  dear !  Well.  We  must  see 
what  she  is  like." 

Open  came  the  packet,  and  again  there  was  a 
sharp  exclamation, — 


368  RED  BEAUTY. 

"  Laura !  "What  does  it  mean  ?  He  has  sent  two 
of  her.  No,  these  are  both  your  own  pictures." 

"He  had  one,"  murmured  Laura,  with  a  deep 
blush.  "  Chelmsford,  dear,  you  know  it  was  not 
my  fault." 

Her  husband  had  stretched  out  a  hand  for  the 
pictures,  however,  and  now  he  answered  her  with 
a  very  hearty-sounding  laugh. 

"  Dick  always  had  good  taste.  That's  yours, 
Laura.  This  is  your  sister-in-law.  I  declare ! 
Found  her  in  America,  too.  It  is  most  remarkable." 

""We  must  have  them  come  and  see  us  some 
day.  What  do  you  say,  Laura?" 

"I  say  so.  Chelmsford,  you  and  I  must  send 
them  a  wedding  present." 

"  I  think  you  owe  him  one,"  said  he,  "  if  only 
for  the  compliment  he  has  paid  you." 

That  was  an  error,  too,  but  in  due  course  of  time 
the  presents  were  received  at  Chumley's  Post,  and 
the  visit  to  the  English  home  was  made. 


THE    END. 


A  •"'"linn. illinium 

000  121  167     1 


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